


Knight and Bishop

by MusicPrincess655



Series: Royalty AU [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood, M/M, Minor Character Death, Shirabu's shit ass emotional stability, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 52,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPrincess655/pseuds/MusicPrincess655
Summary: Three years before Tendou Satori comes to Shiratorizawa, Shirabu and Semi learn to live with each other, and to love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my love letter to my favorite rarepair. This is my project for Camp Nanowrimo, so it will update pretty quickly.

_“The chessboard is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the Universe, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature and the player on the other side is hidden from us” – Thomas Huxley_

The events of Shirabu Kenjirou’s life were as carefully calculated as the moves on a chessboard. Everything was planned in advance to give him the best shot later in life.

The only son of a widower who turned his grief into spoiling his child, Kenjirou had had nothing but the best growing up. His father planned for him to have a comfortable and happy life, no matter the turns it might take. With the influence he’d grown in the court, he managed to get Kenjirou into lessons with the best tutor the kingdom had to offer.

This tutor just happened to be assigned to the crown prince as well, a boy four years Kenjirou’s senior. Ushijima Wakatoshi-sama was a quiet, if a bit dull boy. Kenjirou didn’t mind his company. Ushijima never interrupted him when he was reading, and he didn’t hold their lessons back by being too slow. Kenjirou liked him well enough.

Ushijima, because he would someday be king, focused in his lessons on warfare, and therefore so did Kenjirou. They had lessons together in swordsmanship, which Kenjirou wasn’t the biggest fan of, but he refused to fall behind Ushijima. Together, they studied the great battles in history, both of their kingdom and of others. It was here Kenjirou truly began to shine. Their tutor said he had a mind for strategy, and it was for the best that he was learning with Ushijima. One day, he could serve well as a strategist.

Kenjirou preened under his praise, and so did his father when Kenjirou brought home his tutor’s words. Shirabu Takeshi knew his son was destined for greatness, and this only proved what he was already certain of. Kenjirou didn’t stay idle, but instead worked ever harder. His father assured him that following this path would bring him happiness, and he had no reason to believe otherwise. Ushijima was kind enough to him, and he liked their tutor, even if he much preferred their lessons on literature to warfare.

After all, he still had plenty of time to read on his own. Lessons were for warfare, free time was for reading. Kenjirou learned early on to separate the two sides of his interests.

It wasn’t until he was twelve that he found someone to be his best friend. Ushijima was nice, and by default they were each other’s closest friends as the only children in proximity to each other, but it was a close friendship without much shared interest.

However, when Kenjirou was twelve, a new person their age was brought in. Up until now, Ushijima – and by extension Kenjirou, who spent most of his time with the young prince – had been protected by an older, seasoned guard at all times. Now, however, a much younger boy was brought in to learn from the older guard, with the intention that as they aged, he would grow into a companion for Ushijima.

His name was Kawanishi Taichi, and Kenjirou insulted him on sight.

“You’re too skinny to be a guard,” he’d said. Taichi had turned to him, tongue just as sharp as Kenjirou’s, and fired back.

“You’re too skinny to beat me in a fight.”

Kenjirou’s jaw had dropped. No one ever talked back to him. Not that he was usually rude enough to insult people, at least out loud, but if he did he was usually ignored. He was passed off as “just a child” and left at that.

Kenjirou would never admit it, but Taichi was a good influence on him. Having someone to match wits with was fun, and having someone call him on his rudeness saved him from several sticky situations. Taichi taught him all the best curse words, which he now had to be careful to not say in the presence of anyone important.

The three of them were good friends, though it was clear to anyone who bothered to look that Taichi and Kenjirou were closer to each other than either was to Ushijima. Sometimes, in his brief moments of kindness, Kenjirou wondered if it bothered Ushijima to not have someone to call a best friend. Maybe it was lonely, though Kenjirou had gotten along just fine before Taichi had shown up.

These moments didn’t last long.

The original plan was for Kenjirou to continue being friends with Ushijima and proving himself in their lessons and eventually work his way into the inner circle as a battle strategist. This plan shifted slightly when Kenjirou presented as an omega at age thirteen.

It wasn’t derailed, though. It only changed to building Kenjirou up as a potential mate in addition to a good member to have on a war council. As an alpha or a beta, the most he could have hoped for was to be an advisor to Ushijima, but as an omega, he was now a candidate for queen.

Kenjirou knew the change was there without his father having to discuss it with him. He could see it in the way his father directed conversations, in the way he took more care in how Kenjirou should appear around the castle.

Kenjirou didn’t have any explicit objections to this change in plans. He didn’t love Ushijima, and probably never would, but they were good friends. They knew how to talk to each other, and how to get along. He could do a lot worse that Ushijima, especially considering that marrying his friend would make him queen. No matter what happened to his father or his life, he would be comfortable as queen.

A small part of him pointed out that he wasn’t exactly queen material, being more versed at warfare than at running a kingdom, but he shoved that part down. It wasn’t like that would be so hard to learn, and besides, he could do anything he put his mind to. He’d already proven he was a quick learner, taking to both warfare and swordsmanship when he really preferred reading.

It wasn’t until he was nearly fourteen, when his father must have figured that he knew the plan anyway, that they finally talked about it.

“Are you alright with this plan?” his father had asked. “This is for your happiness. If this isn’t what you want, you don’t have to aim for Ushijima-sama to marry you.”

Kenjirou had just shrugged. He had no reason to refuse, and his father thought this would make him happy. Just because warfare bored him a little and he knew he would never love Ushijima like his father loved his mother didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy in this path.

“I can do this,” he’d assured his father.

Taichi might have had other thoughts, but he kept them to himself. He had enough on his plate trying to learn to be a personal guard without also trying to deal with Kenjirou’s life.

Soon, his tutor said, he and Ushijima could start planning mock battles against each other for practice. Kenjirou couldn’t wait.

He wouldn’t lose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirabu goes head to head against the king

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see how long I can keep this motivation train rolling! Time to get the real story rolling.

_“I have added these principles to the law: get the Knights into action before both Bishops are developed” – Emanuel Lasker_

“You’re cocky,” the king commented. Kenjirou hid his smile, not that he was sure it would do him much good. The king already knew he was confident, but he didn’t have to let on why. “Only someone overconfident goes into a frontal assault with a smaller force.”

Kenjirou just hummed, his eyes focused on the field. They were standing at the top of a tower, watching their troops move on the edge of a forest. The exercise was meant to simulate a situation where a strategist would give orders to a general without being able to change on the fly. This was more for Kenjirou’s benefit than the king’s, as there were few situations he wouldn’t be among his men in battle.

It had been an interesting experience to give orders to a general. His status hadn’t been nearly the barrier he’d been expecting, but his age was a barrier. He’d heard the whispers as he’d left, the idea of someone so young giving orders something these older soldiers weren’t too fond of. Still, it was better they learned to listen to him now. It would be inconvenient to have to argue his points in the middle of an actual war.

Omegas weren’t often soldiers or military advisors, but that didn’t mean they _couldn’t_ be. Kenjirou had gotten a few looks from his team, but nothing that questioned his right to be there. The appraising looks…well, he could have done without them. He was beyond not interested. But no one had actually made him feel uncomfortable, so he let it slide. He was young, and he was pretty. He couldn’t fault them for looking.

He was busy being proud of himself for working his way up to squaring off with the king, anyway. He and Ushijima had been playing these exercises against each other for a few years, but Ushijima wasn’t enough of a challenge anymore. Kenjirou had started to overtake his friend in his lessons, and that combined with a mind set up for puzzles had led to him winning far more often in the exercises.

His side advanced on the king’s entrenched forces. It was thrilling to watch, especially because with the blunted weapons each side was using, the chance of death or even serious injury was low. This exercise offered all the thrill of battle with none of the danger, and Kenjirou loved it.

“See, they’ll never be able to win in a direct assault,” the king said, pointing to where his shield wall stretched, enough to surround Kenjirou’s side if they pressed the middle too hard. By all appearances, Kenjirou had led his men directly into a trap.

He turned to the king, his best “demure omega” face in place, one that usually fooled everyone but Taichi.

“Who said I was attacking from the front?” he asked innocently. The king’s eyes widened as he turned back to the field. From the trees, the other half of Kenjirou’s forces charged, disrupting the shield line and tearing it to shreds. The two sides of Kenjirou’s team squeezed together, and when the dust cleared, the king’s men were entirely subdued.

The king started laughing.

“I underestimated you,” he said, clapping Kenjirou on the shoulder. “I can see why my son speaks so highly of you.”

Kenjirou preened under the praise. After all, the king himself was acknowledging his skills. Anyone would be proud.

“I think he’s proven himself enough,” the queen said quietly, stepping forward. Kenjirou hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with her in his life, but lately, he’d felt her eyes trained on him more and more. She’d been watching him, he was sure, and he thought he had an idea why. “I’ve been saying this for weeks. We should be grooming him for a place on the council. He should be shadowing Saitou-san in addition to his lessons.”

“I can see what you’ve been talking about,” the king agreed. “He’s got a talent for this.”

Kenjirou watched the king and queen interact. Their relationship was a kind of quiet friendship, not much overt love, though they got along well. Like most royal marriages, it had been forged out of political reasons, not love, but it worked well for both of them.

It was probably a lot like what his relationship with Ushijima would look like.

He wasn’t opposed to it. If the king and queen could make it work for this long, he could do it too. It was looking more and more likely that he would be married off to his friend, though he had a little over a year until he turned eighteen, so he could look forward to at least that much longer of being single.

As if being summoned by his thoughts, Ushijima appeared at his side.

“That was well done,” Ushijima told him simply. Kenjirou searched his face, but as always, there was no hint of anger or jealousy at his statement. He was simply acknowledging that Kenjirou had done well, and even seemed happy for him. Kenjirou wasn’t sure he had a jealous bone in his body, which made arguments with him boring. He rarely fought back, instead either shutting Kenjirou down with cool logic or accepting that Kenjirou was right, if rude, without complaint.

Well, that was fine. If Kenjirou really needed to pick a fight, Taichi was usually more than happy to indulge him, even if that meant he lost sometimes. Taichi was one of the few who was willing and capable of matching him blow for verbal blow. It was a good thing they were friends, because something told Kenjirou that Taichi would be the last enemy he ever made if he was stupid enough to do that.

Kenjirou thanked Ushijima and followed the queen. She would introduce him to Saitou, who would take on the role of showing him how to be chief strategist to the king.

“How did you know he wouldn’t send out scouts to the forest?” she asked. “In most situations, he would.”

“He underestimated me, like he said,” Kenjirou replied. “And he probably didn’t think I would go this far for a simple training exercise. I won’t be able to pull a trick like that again against him. He knows I’m not just a young omega with no idea what I’m doing anymore.”

“That he does,” she agreed. “Your tutor speaks highly of you. My son speaks highly of you. Now everyone can see why. You’re only sixteen now, correct?” Kenjirou nodded. “If you continue on this path, you could easily surpass Saitou-san. He’ll like you; he’s been begging for a good student to train as his successor.”

Saitou was nice enough, if surprisingly frail for a strategist. Even though Kenjirou knew he was small, Saitou was delicate in a way he was not. He was clearly not a soldier. A man getting up in years, it was no wonder he was looking for a student to train to replace him. He was probably hoping to retire soon. He probably had children, and maybe even the hint of grandchildren. Kenjirou might expect to take his place sooner than even he had dreamed.

Saitou took him through the library, hands down Kenjirou’s favorite place in the castle, pointing out the section with maps, telling Kenjirou he was more than welcome to use the table with the map of the kingdoms carved into it whenever he’d like.

Kenjirou’s life was changing, and every part of the plan was starting to fall into place. Tomorrow, he would start shadowing Saitou after his lessons were done, and he would start sitting in on council meetings from now on. He was, effectively, a member of the king’s inner circle at sixteen.

His father was overjoyed when Kenjirou told him the news. He’d pulled Kenjirou into a hug, and Kenjirou had reciprocated. His father was the one person allowed to be this affectionate with him. Kenjirou held everyone else, even Taichi, at an arm’s length. However, he’d grown close to his father in the years after his mother’s death, a mother he barely remembered.

“I’m proud of you, son,” his father said into his shoulder, still holding him in a hug. Kenjirou hadn’t even noticed that he was nearly as tall as his father, a man who had always seemed larger than life to him.

“Thank you, Papa,” Kenjirou replied.

Tomorrow, his life would start to change a bit, though for the better he was sure. For now, he could enjoy being held by his father like he was still a child. Change would be good, but it was still a little scary, and sometimes being spoiled like this was nice. He had the rest of his life to be an adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shirabu you idiot sixteen is still a child.   
> Next time: news from the north


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News from the north

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that plot I see? I think it is.

_“The King is a fighting piece. Use it!” – Wilhelm Steinitz_

Kenjirou hadn’t quite been prepared for how much time shadowing Saitou would take up. He barely had any time to himself anymore, and the little time he did was usually spent collapsing into bed.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” Taichi asked when he complained. “Of course it’s going to be hard work. You’re not training to be the royal accountant.”

Years of friendship had taught him that this was Taichi’s way of saying “this is nothing you can’t handle.” And he was right. Kenjirou could do this. He just didn’t have to like how much of his personal time it was taking up.

Finally, _finally_ , he got an afternoon to himself. Saitou had some family matters to attend to, so Kenjirou was free to do as he wished. He holed up in his favorite corner of the library, the one with the softest cushion on the window seat. The window was thrown open, airing the large room out after an entire winter spent shut up and lit by roaring fires and candles. The early April breeze flowed through the window, with a lingering chill from winter still in it.

Kenjirou liked that, though. He preferred this seat because it was far enough away from the fire in the winter that he wouldn’t melt. Now, with the slightly chilly breeze blowing over his shoulders, it was nice to put a blanket over his lap and curl up with a book. He hadn’t had time to read just for fun since he’d started shadowing Saitou, and he was more than happy to melt into the world of the book he’d selected.

He had only just gotten immersed in the first chapter when he was interrupted. Kenjirou growled, turning to give whoever was disturbing him a piece of his mind, when he saw that the page wore the armband that designated her as coming directly from the queen.

“There’s an emergency council meeting,” the page told him, once she seemed sure he wasn’t going to snap at her. “The queen wants you there.”

“Saitou-san isn’t going to be there, is he?” Kenjirou asked. Saitou had said he was riding to his family’s estate, which if Kenjirou remembered correctly was a few days ride to the west. Even if they had just sent a rider after him, it was unlikely they would catch him before he reached his home.

“No. That’s why she wants you.”

Now _that_ was interesting. Kenjirou followed her, brushing at his hair to try to look more presentable. He hadn’t been as careful with the oil he used to make his naturally curly hair straight, considering he had almost no obligations today and hadn’t expected to see anyone. At least it wasn’t the fluffy mess it could be if he left it entirely alone. He would have to do for now. The page hadn’t given him the impression the queen was willing to wait for him to go clean himself up.

Everyone looked up when he entered the room, and he held his head high, trying not to look self-conscious. He took his seat beside Ushijima, trying to stay close with the most familiar people in the room.

The king and queen stood to start the meeting.

“I think everyone is here who can be here,” the king said, and Kenjirou felt a twinge of embarrassment. He’d been the last to arrive. “I’ll cut right to the chase. Itachiyama is threatening the Iron Wall.”

There was only a beat of silence before everyone started talking at once over each other. Kenjirou sat frozen.

_Itachiyama?_

The last time they had invaded had been when he was two, and he barely remembered it. However, they had brought with them the plague that had spread through the kingdom and killed his mother. If they were attacking again, it was bad news.

The king held up his hand for quiet.

“I know this isn’t news any of you want to hear,” he said. “This time, we’ll stop them before they can get across the Iron Wall. I will be taking an advance guard up to the Wall to help them fortify the defenses before the rest of the army gets up there. The forces they’ve brought with them don’t seem to be too much for us to handle. In the meantime, the queen will take care of things here in the citadel.”

The queen stood then.

“I know we all remember well what happened last time Itachiyama invaded us,” she said, and a kind of sad quiet spread over the room. The plague had wiped out one fourth of the population. Almost everyone had lost at least one family member to it. “We won’t allow it to happen again. We’re ready for them this time. The Iron Wall is complete, and they won’t be able to scale it like they did last time. Datekou has enough men to stop them this time.”

“Where’s Saitou-san?” someone spoke up.

“He left yesterday to go take care of some matters with his family at his estate,” the queen said. “We’ve sent a rider after him to bring him back. In the meantime, his student Shirabu-kun is here. He can start the planning process.”

Kenjirou was surprised by the casual way the queen addressed him. He’d gotten the feeling that she was taking a liking to him, but this confirmed it.

Every eye in the room turned back to him. He stood, trying not to look as young as everyone clearly though he was.

“I will start planning like Saitou-san has taught me,” he said, lowering into a small bow. “Please take care of me.”

A small murmur of approval swept through the room. Kenjirou smiled to himself. He’d won them over. Now he had a comeback for the next time Taichi called him rude. He could behave himself just fine if he needed to.

“Very good, Shirabu-kun,” the queen said. “That’s all the information we have for the council at this time. Please prepare yourselves, and once we have a full strategy, we will meet again.”

Everyone filtered out, talking quietly amongst themselves. Kenjirou heard a few whispers about possible consequences of a war. They hadn’t had a serious one in fourteen years. It was natural for people to worry.

“Shirabu-kun, if you could come with us,” the queen beckoned. Ushijima and the king were standing with her. “We’d like to get a head start on the planning.”

“I’m just starting the process, right?” Kenjirou asked. “I haven’t learned everything I need to from Saitou-san yet.”

“Of course,” the king assured him. Ushijima patted him on the shoulder. It was a lot more comforting to have his friend there with him.

They got to the library where the maps were and stood around the table, all focusing on the section with the Iron Wall.

“Here’s what we know so far,” the king said, laying out pieces. “This is where the army is massing.” He placed a piece above the Iron Wall. “They’re massing almost directly due north of here. We think they’ll try to make a run straight for the citadel before their supplies run low or too many of their men die.”

“Will they try to get through the Wall like they did last time?” Kenjirou asked, his mind already whirring. If he just pretended this was a puzzle, an exercise like he was used to doing in lessons, it would be easier.

“We think so,” the king replied. “It worked for them last time, so they have no reason to assume it won’t this time. Besides, if they were planning to try to get around the Wall, they wouldn’t be gathering in the middle. They would be heading for the side.”

“True,” Kenjirou murmured. “Will your advance guard and Datekou be enough to take them in a direct assault?”

“Datekou alone would be enough for that,” the king told him. “We probably won’t be too necessary to this war, in all honesty. But the people are still scared of the name Itachiyama, and Datekou might be allied closely with us, but they are not our subjects. We have to offer them support if we want them to continue to ally with us.”

“The simplest approach might be the best here,” Kenjirou said, looking over the pieces once more. “The sooner this is ended, the better. A single, direct assault would scatter them and discourage them from trying anything like this again.”

“It’s a fair thought,” Ushijima broke in. “We should still send scouts into the north to make sure they’re not laying a trap for us.”

“Of course,” Kenjirou agreed. He may have surpassed Ushijima in their lessons, but his friend was far from an idiot. “Datekou should be more familiar with the area, so they would be better suited to sending some of their people as scouts. Your advance guard would do well in the frontal assault.”

The king nodded, taking them both in.

“That’s enough for now,” he said. “I’ll take my guard and go up for now. We’ll stay in contact with eagles. If anything changes, we can deal with it then. Saitou-san should be back soon.”

“Indeed,” the queen nodded. “Good work Shirabu-kun, Wakatoshi. You two already function as a team better than I could have hoped. I can see I didn’t make the wrong decision with who should be Saitou-san’s replacement.”

“One more thing,” the king said. “Saitou-san preferred to work directly with a general in his planning, and as neither Shirabu nor Wakatoshi have seen real battle, I’ve sent for someone who has.”

The queen looked taken aback. Clearly, he hadn’t taken this up with her.

“Who?” she asked.

“He’s from here, but he’s in the east now,” the king told her. “He’s just finished putting down some attacks from the hill tribes. They have a similar type of fighting to Itachiyama, so he should do well in planning against them.”

“He sounds admirable,” the queen said, though Kenjirou could hear an edge in her voice. She wasn’t fond of being left out of decisions, that much was clear. Kenjirou couldn’t blame her. Just because she wasn’t in charge of warfare decisions didn’t mean she should be left out of the loop entirely. “May I ask who this warrior is?”

“I doubt you’ve ever met,” the king said. “He’s rather young, although he’s wise beyond his years. He’s worked his way up from being born in the village, and I have come to trust him.”

“He’s lowborn?” the queen asked, and Kenjirou could tell how scandalized she was. “And you trust him to be a general? Has he even had any formal training?”

“I’ll let him make his own introductions,” the king said, finally seeming to grasp the tense feeling in the room. “Believe me when I say he’s proven himself. I sent a rider as soon as we received news of Itachiyama, and if he rides fast he should get there in a day. He should return within a day or two.”

Everyone was quiet, so the king turned to Kenjirou.

“I want you to work with him,” he said. “You’re brilliant, there’s no doubt about it, but there are some things you can only learn if you’ve been on a battlefield. I think the two of you could be a good pair and balance each other.”

Kenjirou nodded, and the king turned to leave. He had learned to work in a team with Ushijima; he could work it out with whoever the king wanted him with. As long as whoever this was didn’t try to overpower him because he was young or an omega, they would be fine. Kenjirou may have been young, but he wouldn’t bow to anyone’s will. He knew what he was doing, or at least enough that he shouldn’t be dismissed.

“Stay for a while,” the queen said. “I want to work on the strategy more.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for whoever Father sent for?” Ushijima asked.

“We don’t have time to play around,” the queen replied. “We can catch him up when he gets here. One or two days won’t be enough for him to fall behind if he’s really as good as my mate seems to believe.”

Kenjirou took a deep breath and turned back to the table. He could do this, and if whoever was coming got in his way, he would deal with it then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: the mysterious warrior from the east arrives.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Semi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes my boy I'm excited

_THE KNIGHT_

_The Knight is knowledge how to fight_  
against his Princes enimies,   
He neuer makes his walke outright,   
But leaps and skips, in wilie wise,   
To take by sleight a traitrous foe,   
Might slilie seek their ouerthrowe.

_-Nicholas Breton, The Chesse Play_

“Excuse me?”

Eita looked up from his conversation with Kaito to look over the woman before him. She had her hands in her apron, looking down shyly, but he could see a coyness in her movements. She was playing a game with him, and he was more than happy to oblige her.

“Can I help ya, pretty girl?” he asked, letting a lazy grin stretch across his face.

“You’re the one who saved us from the raiders, aren’t you?” she asked, peeking up through her eyelashes.

“It wasn’t just me,” he assured her. “All of this company helped. You should thank ‘em all if you’re thankin’ people.”

Eyes around the tavern looked up at her, and she bowed politely.

“Sit with us a while,” he offered, holding his hand out to guide her to the bench, pressed close to his thigh. “Have a drink with us.”

So she did, and it was only one beer before she was in his lap instead of pressed against his side, laughing as they traded stories around the table. Eita wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her in place, feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol in his head. After the month he’d had, there was nothing he wanted more than to enjoy a night of peace with his friends, some good beer, and someone pretty in his lap.

Eventually, his company started filtering out of the tavern to the rooms they’d rented, either with someone they’d found in the village or with each other. A few of the youngest and oldest left alone, probably wanting a good night’s sleep after weeks of sleeping on the hard ground and fighting every day.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” he asked the woman in his lap. Only Kaito and Mari were left around the table, both giving him sly looks from the corner of their eyes.

“Rika,” she told him, looping her arms around his shoulders. Apparently she was growing tired with their game.

“Little vixen,” he teased her. “You’re not as shy as you’re lettin’ on, are ya?”

“Depends,” Rika flirted right back, settling even closer in his lap, legs on either side of his thighs. “Is your mouth good for anything but jokes?”

Kaito’s shout of laughter startled both of them. He stood up, helping Mari on his way.

“Good lass,” he said approvingly. “Give him a run for his money, ya hear? He’s got a big head after bein’ treated like a hero.”

“Will do,” Rika promised, and Eita grinned. She took his hand and led him out of the room.

***

Eita woke the next morning to a pounding in his head and on his door. Rika stirred beside him, wrinkling her nose and burying her head in a pillow to muffle the noise.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” he muttered, tugging on his pants as he shuffled to the door. The man knocking on it almost fell in when he opened it. “What’s the trouble, friend?”

“I’ve come from the king,” the man said, panting as if he’d sprinted the entire way. “There’s news of an attack coming from the north.”

“They want me to ride north?” Eita groaned. The man shook his head.

“They want you to ride for the citadel,” he said. “An advance guard has already ridden north, but they want you to work with the strategist on a plan in case the direct attack against Itachiyama doesn’t work.”

“The strategist? That’s…Saitou-san, isn’t it?” Eita asked. He was finally rubbing the last of sleep from his eyes.

“He’s not back yet,” the messenger told him. “For now, his student is starting the planning.”

“Student?” Eita asked. This just got better and better. “They want me to work with a kid?”

“Shirabu-san knows what he’s doing,” the messenger said, seeming affronted. “The queen herself chose him.”

“A glowin’ commendation,” Eita yawned. “I’ll be down in a minute. We’ll ride out as soon as the rest of my company is ready.”

He walked to the bed where Rika wasn’t even close to asleep anymore.

“Take care of yourself, pretty girl,” he told her. “Don’t get yourself hurt by the hill tribes when I’m not here to take care of ya.”

“Have fun with the royals,” she teased back sleepily. He smiled, patting her hair before leaving. It was nice when his partners parted amicably. He still shuddered at the memory of a man who had expected more of an attachment. While Eita enjoyed long term relationships, nights like these were one time occurrences, especially since he doubted he would ever come back out this way.

It was hardly easy to get his entire company moving, and he saw far more of them than he wanted to as they scrambled into clothes and shuffled around with hangovers. They were on the road, the messenger having left ahead of them to inform the citadel that they were returning.

“Did that lass give ya a good night?” Kaito asked, yawning behind his hand. Eita grinned.

“I didn’t realize how strong her thighs were until they were around my head,” he replied. Kaito gave him a shocked look before bursting into laughter and startling everyone around them.

“Glad to see you’re still enough of a gentleman to eat your partners out before you fuck ‘em,” Kaito chortled, wiping a hand over his face. “So what are we leaving our beds so early for?”

“Mari’ll look just as pretty in a bed in the citadel,” Eita teased, and Kaito shoved him. “Apparently Itachiyama is attackin’ again.”

The joking atmosphere left as the news settled in.

“We’re fightin’ in the north?” Kaito asked.

“I dunno yet,” Eita said. “For now, I’m just supposed to work with some student because the real strategist is away. They didn’t say what the rest of ya were doing.”

“Maybe they’ll let us take a vacation in the citadel,” Kaito mused, ignoring Eita’s snort. “I haven’t had time to properly love my wife lately, ya know.”

“If you had all the time in the world, you’d still want to love Mari more,” Eita said. He teased, but he was happy his best friend had found someone he loved so much, and who loved him dearly in return.

“She’s talkin’ about wantin’ a baby,” Kaito confided in him, and Eita’s eyes widened. “Last night was the first time we could start workin’ on that.”

“Congratulations,” Eita told him, all teasing gone from their conversation.

“I’ll ask you to play godfather, o’ course,” Kaito went on.

“I’d be honored,” Eita said. “Someone’s gotta help me keep you in line, and Mari’s goin’ soft.”

“None o’ that!” Kaito snapped, but he was laughing. “You’re gonna be the death of me someday, Eita.”

They rode on, not as fast as was maybe warranted, but they would reach the citadel by nightfall. Besides, it was nice to joke with his friends, Mari and Akito drifting in to help tease both of them. The weather was pleasant, early spring, with the smell of melting ice in the air. It might be the last of peace they knew for a while, and they all took advantage of it.

Despite their pace, they still arrived at the citadel before the sun was finished sinking, calls from the gate going up to let them in. Eita swung off his horse once they were inside, not feeling nearly as tired as he might have. He was closer to home than he’d been in a long time. He might even go down to say hello to his parents and baby sister if he had time tonight. Umi might be back from whatever journey she was on, and Kenta should be either in the castle on guard duty or at home off shift. He’d missed his family.

“Semi Eita?” someone asked, drawing his attention. “Please come with me. We’ve prepared a room for you in the castle where you can bathe after your journey.”

“Where’s the rest of my company supposed to stay?” he asked, carefully controlling his accent. He’d learned from experience that speaking as he normally did wouldn’t get him very far.

“They’re welcome to use the barracks,” the page said. “There are stables for their horses there.”

“I’m used to staying with my people,” Eita said, frowning. It didn’t sit well with him to be in the castle while everyone else was in the barracks.

“The queen wants you close,” the page explained. “You’re not of much use to us all the way in the barracks.”

“I see.” The Ice Queen seemed to be living up to her name. He turned to his company. “You lot! Stay in the barracks for now, and make sure you get a good night’s sleep or a good beer, whichever comes first.” A cheer of assent went up from the men. Eita followed the page inside, enticed by the promise of a bath and clean clothes.

Washing the grime of a campaign and a day’s ride was a blessing, and so was stepping into clean clothes. They were of a less fancy style than was common in the castle, so whoever had laid them out must have known he was lowborn. He was grateful enough that they were mostly in browns, since he couldn’t quite distinguish between other colors and looking like a fool was the last thing he wanted to do now.

The page had waited for him, and led him to the library. Four sets of eyes met his. The queen, her eyes calculating. Ushijima, who Eita had met before and who he respected, even if he was sometimes frustrating. Taichi, Ushijima’s guard, a man with a sharp tongue if he was ever tested. And…

A young omega. He couldn’t have been older than eighteen. He really was still a child.

“Semi Eita?” the queen asked. Eita nodded. “We’ve been waiting for you to start.”

He tried not to snap at the implication that he’d kept them waiting.

“Hello, Semi,” Ushijima greeted him quietly. Eita nodded to him. He would try to convince the prince to just use his given name at a later time. Almost no one called him by his family name.

“Have you been promoted to a real guard?” Eita asked Taichi.

“A library is hardly fraught with danger,” Taichi countered, but he looked mildly pleased with Eita’s backhanded praise.

“Semi-san,” the queen interrupted. “This is Shirabu-kun.”

So she was fond of this young omega. Shirabu. Even his name sounded pretentious. He stepped forward, bangs as straight as a ruler and looking Eita down as well as he could for being a little shorter.

Good. He didn’t back down.

“Nice to meet you,” he offered the olive branch. If the king wanted him to work with this kid, he might as well start things off on the right foot. Shirabu’s face betrayed nothing.

“Likewise,” was all he gave in return.

“Let’s get this strategy,” the queen said. She explained what they had come up with so far, letting Shirabu and Ushijima jump in as necessary.

Eita had to admit, it was a sound plan. Shirabu explained himself most clearly, correcting both of the royals. Clearly, this plan was mostly his.

“If you’re going to do a surrounding move like this, you might want your cavalry to start farther to the sides so they can keep any enemy horses away from our soldiers,” he suggested. “Other than that, it’s a solid plan.”

He looked up to see Shirabu’s sharp brown eyes on him. There was intelligence in them, and he probably had a quick tongue to match. Eita was starting to see how he’d earned the queen’s favor so young. He hadn’t missed the formal way she’d addressed Shirabu that she hadn’t extended to him.

There was a kind of defiance in Shirabu’s face, as if he was angry that any part of his plan had been questioned. Cocky. Eita wasn’t about to play babysitter if Shirabu wanted to throw a tantrum. He would call the shots as he saw them, and Shirabu could deal with it.

“That’s enough for now,” the queen said. “We’ve caught you up. We can reconvene tomorrow morning. For now, I’m sure you’d like to get some rest.”

Somehow, she made even that sound like an insult, but so subtly that he had no choice but to accept her offer and leave.

His life was about to get a lot more difficult, he could tell already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Semi is a raging bisexual and Shirabu is bitchy


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calm before the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which semishira are constantly bitching each other out.

_“Half the variations which are calculated in a tournament game turn out to be completely superfluous. Unfortunately, no one knows in advance which half” - Jan Tinman_

Eita refused to describe what he was doing as sulking. He was merely removing himself from a situation where he was obviously not wanted. That was an adult, mature reaction. He was just outside, enjoying the sunset. He was not _sulking_.

“Is that pretty lad of yours givin’ you trouble?” Kaito asked.

“He’s not mine,” Eita argued back. “Besides, it’s the Ice Queen that’s botherin’ me the most.”

“She still holdin’ a grudge because you’re lowborn?” Mari asked, leaning around Kaito to address him. Eita took comfort in the familiar accent of the village around the castle, a relief after a week of clipped accents of the nobles.

“I don’t think she likes me as a person, on top of not likin’ me because I’m lowborn,” Eita shrugged. “Her son doesn’t seem to know what to do with me. I guess he likes me, but he’s not so great for conversation. His guard is fun, though. He’s the only one that bitches Shirabu out like he deserves.”

“Ooooo, pretty boy again,” Mari teased, and Eita resisted the urge to groan. It was never fun when the two of them tag teamed him. He loved them both, but they could be relentless, and he really wasn’t in the mood right now. “Maybe you should pursue him. I hear hate is a special kind o’ passion.”

“Pass,” Eita said, waving his hand. “He’d never let me close enough to try, and besides, I’m not in the business of beddin’ children.”

“Isn’t he seventeen?” Kaito asked.

“A child,” Eita said, nodding as if Kaito had proven his point.

“Please. As if any o’ us were children at seventeen,” Mari scoffed. “We were all fightin’ by then.”

“He hasn’t,” Eita protested. “I don’t think he’s ever left this citadel. Maybe we weren’t children at seventeen, but he is.”

“You like a challenge,” Kaito argued.

“A challenge. Not a virginal child with a stick up his ass,” Eita said firmly. “I came out here to forget about all of them for a while. Play a game with me instead.”

“What kind of game?” Mari asked, teasing desisted but not forgotten.

“Make up the story of whoever we see walkin’ through,” Eita suggested. “Look at that boy,” he nodded to a black haired boy with straight bangs practicing swordsmanship. “He’s young. Probably joined the castle guards as soon as they would take him. He’s probably nobility, but I’d guess his family are merchants. He grew up rich. He probably wants to join the army and work his way up.”

“Nice,” Kaito said. “Cute, isn’t he?”

“Not my type,” Eita dismissed. “Too earnest. Too eager to please. There’s no challenge there.”

“I’d expect nothin’ less,” Mari said. “My turn. That woman.”

Kaito and Eita turned to the short woman with black hair, hurrying about, pausing to say a word to the boy Eita had looked at before hurrying on.

“She’s in charge of a lot here, but not domestic chores,” Mari mused. “She’s dressed like she’s prepared for a fight. I bet she’s the captain of the guard. Definitely married, definitely has kids.”

Eita didn’t miss the way Mari clutched at her belly when she said that. Surely she and Kaito would be having their own soon. They’d been married for a few years; it was time for them to settle down with their family.

“Okay. Her.” Kaito pointed out a pretty blonde woman. Eita whistled under his breath, and Mari nodded approvingly. “Lowborn, definitely. She’s fetchin’ water, so she’s prob’ly a maid or a kitchen worker. I bet she’s single, but she has suitors chasing her everywhere she goes.”

“She’s pretty enough for it,” Eita agreed. “She’s gorgeous. She can’t be from the village. She’s not much younger than us, and I would remember someone with beauty like her’s.”

“Well look who’s speakin’ all proper like,” Mari teased.

“Don’t remind me,” Eita groaned. “I’ve had enough of these nobles. The Ice Queen scowls at me when I talk normal, and I have enough to deal with here without her glarin’ daggers into me. Ushijima-sama isn’t so bad, but Shirabu acts like he knows everythin’. I bet no one’s ever had to tell him he’s wrong about somethin’.”

“Spoiled?” Kaito asked.

“Probably, but I will admit he’s smart,” Eita conceded. “He’s not here for nuthin’.”

“He’s stuck in your head,” Mari pointed out.

“I’d much rather have that girl stuck in my head,” Eita said, nodding with his chin. “She’s pretty, and she doesn’t spend all her time snapping at me.”

“Semi-san,” a voice interrupted. They all turned to see Shirabu standing there, face carefully blank. “We hardly have time to be staring at every woman that crosses our path. There’s a war going on, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“We’re not gonna lose because I spent two minutes outside with my friends,” Eita argued, but he stood up anyway, schooling his voice back out of its village accent. He followed Shirabu without further complaint.

Shirabu held his head high, trying his best to look down his nose at Eita from his position of being shorter. Eita tried not to grin. Maybe Shirabu was annoying, but he was pretty obviously trying to compensate for feeling out of his depth. No matter how smart he was, he was still a seventeen year old surrounded by people older and more experienced than him. He deserved a little bit of slack.

“Ah. Good of you to join us, Semi-san,” the queen said coolly when he walked in. She, however, deserved far less slack. He’d done nothing to earn her treatment of him except being born to two poor bakers in the village instead of in some castle.

“What would you like to discuss?” he asked politely anyway, because she was still the queen, and he didn’t feel like being thrown in the dungeon or something.

“Contingency plans,” she replied. “Just in case what we’ve worked out already falls through.”

“There’s not much else we can do,” Eita sighed. “I know it’s not the answer you want, but we’ve done all we can with the information we have right now. We have to wait until we have more news from the Wall.”

“That’s not good enough,” she scoffed. Eita could feel the tension forming in his head. He’d had just about enough of these nobles.

“Highness, have you ever seen a battle?” Her silence told him all he needed to know. “I have. I’ve been fighting for this kingdom since I was sixteen. One of the first things you learn is that things don’t always go as planned, and the side that wins is the side that can adapt to the changes. We’ve done all we can do. You’re welcome to sit here beating your head against a wall trying to come up with something else, but I won’t stay to watch you.”

He turned to leave, not missing the horrified look Shirabu was aiming at him.

“You have not been dismissed.” The queen’s voice was frozen steel. Eita tried not to let his anger show on his face as he wheeled back around.

“Mother, that’s enough,” Ushijima broke in. “He’s right. There’s little else we can do. Everyone is tired and tense waiting for news. We shouldn’t fight among ourselves.”

The queen looked like she still wanted to rage, but logic won out.

“Very well,” she said. “You are all dismissed for the night. Shirabu-kun, if you don’t mind staying, I’d like _your_ opinion on this.”

Eita and Ushijima left the library, Taichi trailing at a safe but still respectful distance.

“I’m sorry about her,” Ushijima apologized. “She’s just worried. We lost a lot last time Itachiyama invaded.”

“I remember,” Eita replied, thinking about the people who had died around them fourteen years ago. He and his younger brother Kenta had gotten the plague, along with their parents. Because they were bakers, they’d had enough to eat, which was probably why they all survived. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of their neighborhood.

“She’s overstepping, and Kenjirou is letting her because he doesn’t want to lose the position he’s gotten to,” Taichi explained. “I don’t know what Saitou-san still isn’t back. The rider should have been able to get to his home and back by now.”

“So instead we’re letting a seventeen year old run everything,” Eita sighed. Taichi gave him a strange look.

“Did Kenjirou tell you he was seventeen?” Taichi asked. Eita nodded. “That little shit. He’s not seventeen for a few weeks. He probably wanted to sound like less of a child.”

“He’s only sixteen?”

“Yep.”

“How did he end up here?”

“He’s smart,” Ushijima broke in. “He always outsmarted me in our lessons. Still, that doesn’t mean my mother needs to act the way she does with him. He’s not the only one that’s right.”

Eita had never heard such a long string of words from the prince before. He was a lot less boring when he actually talked.

“Anyway. Thanks for sticking up for me,” he said, nodding his head. “I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you two tomorrow when we discuss a variation on the same plan we’ve been beating to death for a week.”

Taichi offered him a smirk in response to that as he followed Ushijima away. He walked to his room, stark and bare and lacking in any kind of personalization. He probably wouldn’t be here much longer, if things kept going as they were going, so there was no point in trying to make it a home.

He was left alone with his thoughts for less than hour before a knock at his door roused him. He opened his door to reveal Shirabu.

“Can I help you?” he asked. “Done talking about the same thing with the queen?”

“We’ve done enough planning for one night,” Shirabu waved his hand dismissively, which Eita took as a yes. “You don’t have to be so rude about your opinion.”

Eita snorted.

“I don’t really want a lecture on rudeness from a sixteen year old brat,” he shot back.

“How did you know I was…? Taichi,” Shirabu grumbled. “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean you have to dismiss me.”

“I’m not trying to,” Eita sighed. “Look. A piece of advice. No matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to plan for everything and you won’t have control over every aspect of a battle. The sooner you learn to let that go, the sooner you’ll calm down about this.”

“I don’t need your advice,” Shirabu said coolly, face impassive. “I know what I’m doing.”

“In theory, but not in practice,” Eita argued. “You’re being too hard on yourself. There’s a chance we might not be able to use anything we’ve planned so far. Until we get new information, there’s no reason to burn yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” Shirabu insisted. Eita let himself roll his eyes. Shirabu didn’t have nearly the same power as the queen and Eita had no reason to fear him.

“Whatever you say,” he said, trying to be diplomatic, because he was going to have to work with Shirabu for a while. He hoped this war wouldn’t be too long. “Did you come here for something specific?”

“I…”

“You just came here because you wanted to bitch, didn’t you?”

“You’re so vulgar,” Shirabu complained.

“Please, as if you don’t have a worse mouth than me,” Eita laughed. “I’ve heard you talking to Taichi. You could make a village barmaid blush with some of the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

“Good night, Semi-san,” Shirabu said shortly. Eita watching him walk away stiffly, all self-righteous fury. He really did get ugly when he was arguing.

Kaito was right about one thing. Shirabu was a challenge, and he was too damn stubborn to make anything. Eita smirked to himself. He’d show this spoiled little rich boy what it was like to try and win an argument with stubbornness when he faced the oldest of four siblings.

Shirabu may have thought he was good, but he had nothing on Tomoko, and she was six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: news from the north, again


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bickering continues

_“These are not pieces, they are men! For any man to walk into the line of fire will be one less man in your army to fight for you. Value every troop and use him wisely, throw him not to the dogs as he is there to serve his King” – Jamie Walter Adams_

Kenjirou was vibrating with anticipation and trying not to show it. They’d finally gotten an eagle back from the Iron Wall, and it would tell them how well or badly his plan had done. They’d sent the preliminary idea ahead of them, and there was every chance it had beaten the advance guard to the Wall.

Kenjirou had come up with the idea of how they would attack the enemies mounting on their northern border. They outnumbered the men from Shiratorizawa and the men Datekou was willing to send out from their posts, but that wouldn’t stop them. They had discipline and strategy on their side.

The Iron Wall was built to stop anyone coming from the north, whether they were friend or foe. The only openings were thin to keep an invading army from storming the Wall en masse. The disadvantage was that a wholesale retreat wasn’t an option. If Itachiyama could back them up against the Wall, they were finished. They would be surrounded, if they weren’t surrounded anyway by the sheer numbers.

But Kenjirou had planned for that. The Wall would serve as a distraction, and Itachiyama could try to break through them if they wanted.

They would only fall into a trap.

Rather than straight shield lines, Kenjirou set the troops in separated wedges that would allow the other side to surround them – in a way. As they moved down the wedge, they would be forced closer and closer together, and what cavalry they had would be used to prevent any who got past the wedges from attacking from the back, as well as forcing the other side to attack them head on instead of trying any flanking maneuvers.

Semi had worked with him, suggesting soldiers he remembered that were in the advance guard. They would need their very best on the outside of the wedges, particularly in the back. They had to keep Itachiyama from getting through.

It had been…surprisingly not that bad working with Semi. He was annoying, and he talked too much, but he knew what he was talking about, and when he was serious, they got a lot done.

They waited in tense silence as the queen read over the letter. Her sigh of relief went almost unnoticed before she looked up to tell them what she’d read.

“It worked,” she said. “Itachiyama tried to cut through, just like you thought they would,” she was looking directly at Kenjirou. “We cut down a lot of them. They didn’t have enough to continue the attack and retreated. We’re in pursuit. We don’t want them to regroup and try to attack again.”

“How many did we lose?” Semi asked quietly. Kenjirou didn’t think he looked nearly as happy as he should. This was a win for them, and it was because of both of them. What business did he have looking like he did now?

“Forty six,” the queen replied. She didn’t look pleased with his reaction either. “That’s practically nothing compared to the hundreds Itachiyama lost.”

“Practically nothing?” Semi sounded surprisingly dangerous. “All respect, highness, but it wasn’t nothing to those forty six.”

“You’re acting like this wasn’t a victory for us,” the queen said.

“Of course it was a victory,” Semi said, holding up his hand. “I’m not going to argue against that. But there was a cost to it, and if I want to mourn those forty six for a day, I will. They’re not nothing.”

He turned to leave, and the queen turned back to Kenjirou.

“You did well,” she praised him. “If you hadn’t come up with this wedge idea, we wouldn’t have done as well as we did. The numbers don’t lie. This was well done.”

Kenjirou smiled. This was what he wanted. Besides, he didn’t need to think so hard about those forty six. It was sad they had been lost, but most had survived.

“I’m sure Saitou-san would have done just as well,” he said anyway, trying to sound appropriately humble.

“You certainly brought some ingenuity to this,” the queen countered. “You’ll surpass him soon, that is certain. Although I _am_ worried he hasn’t returned yet. I even sent an eagle to his home, but there’s been no reply. I hope nothing happened to him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kenjirou said, though he was sure of nothing of the sort. “There’s probably just been a problem with the eagle.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Saitou-san will return when he can, but in the meantime, we have you,” the queen went on. “We’ll wait for more information, but there’s every chance they’ll be returning soon. If this is the last we hear from Itachiyama for a long time, I’ll be happy. Go get some rest. You’ve earned it. We have nothing to fear for a while.”

Kenjirou left, murmuring a goodbye as he left, and nearly walked into Semi leaning against the opposite wall.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“We were just in the same room,” Kenjirou said. He didn’t think he was going to like what Semi had to say. He’d rather just focus on the victory here, his first big one.

“I’d rather talk to you without her hanging over your shoulder,” Semi said. “You listen a lot more when she’s not at your shoulder coddling you.”

“She doesn’t coddle me,” Kenjirou snapped, but he followed Semi anyway. He might as well deal with this now.

Semi led them to a balcony that had a curtain hanging over its opening to hide it from passersby. Though there was no way Semi had chosen the location for his benefit, Kenjirou was still grateful for the breaths of cooler, fresh air.

“Don’t fall into the trap of thinking of soldiers as just numbers,” Semi said, turning to address him.

“I’m not going to personally mourn every man who falls,” Kenjirou replied. “It’s a war. People are going to die.”

“But you need to think of them like that,” Semi insisted. “People. They’re _people_. They’re not numbers for you to throw at an enemy and be fine as long as they don’t dip too low.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” Kenjirou shot at him. “I know what I’m doing.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t accept advice from someone who’s _actually_ done this before,” Semi said angrily. His carefully controlled accent was slipping into something rougher. Was this what he normally sounded like?

“I’m not a child!” Kenjirou spit.

“I’m not treatin’ ya like a child!” Semi argued back. “I’m treatin’ ya like I would treat any green commander. Actin’ like soldiers are just numbers and not people is the fastest way to lose loyalty! The sooner you learn that, the sooner I’ll stop tryin’ to tell ya!”

“I don’t have to listen to this!” Kenjirou was nearly shouting now. “We won, and we won with my plan. If you want to mourn those forty six people you probably don’t even know, be my guest.”

“Not knowin’ them doesn’t mean you should forget they’re people with families and hopes and fears,” Semi said. He seemed to be calming down, and now he just looked disappointed. “I thought someone as smart as you would understand that.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Semi-san,” Kenjirou said, as dismissively as he could.

“Right. Hide behind your status,” Semi said, accent once again smoothing into something like how the other nobles spoke. “Enjoy it when that comes crashing down around you.”

Kenjirou whirled and left. He’d had enough of this for at _least_ the rest of the day.

***

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with thinking of them as numbers,” he complained, shoving a cookie into his mouth. “Numbers win wars. If we don’t have enough, we lose. I’m trying to be _practical_.”

“Yes, but you can think of them as people without losing sight of strategy,” Taichi said helpfully from where he was perched on the counter. “Semi knows a lot more about this than you do. He’s actually a soldier. You’re just a glorified chess player.”

“I planned us into a victory!” Kenjirou snapped, reaching for another cookie. “I’m not in the wrong here.”

“Is that why you’re stress eating?”

“I’m not stress eating! I just like these cookies. Chef doesn’t make them with cinnamon often.”

“Sure,” Taichi dismissed, making it clear he didn’t believe Kenjirou.

“I didn’t come here for your opinion,” Kenjirou went on. Technically, he hadn’t come to Taichi at all. He’d come to the kitchen _because he’d smelled cinnamon_ and he wanted the cookies, not because he was stress eating, and certainly not because he wanted Taichi to comment on his problems.

“That’s kind of how our friendship works, though,” Taichi mused. “You bitch, and I explain why whatever you’re bitching about is stupid.”

“Bite me.”

“I’d rather bite _him_ ,” Taichi grinned. “Maybe you’re worked up because he’s too hot for you to handle.”

“That’s gross,” Kenjirou deadpanned. He wouldn’t admit that yes, he did find Semi objectively attractive. Too bad his attitude ruined everything. “You’re such a slut.”

Taichi shrugged.

“This isn’t exactly new information to you,” he shrugged. “I’m a lazy slut, you’re an uptight prude, and together we form a normal functioning human.”

“If you’re not going to help, I’m taking the cookies and leaving,” Kenjirou threatened.

“When did you get such a stick up your ass,” Taichi complained. Kenjirou stood. “Fine. Listen, then. Semi has seen battle and you haven’t. He knows how to inspire loyalty and you don’t. He’s actually planned and fought, and he knows better than you that both our side and theirs is just filled up with people, not numbers. If he tells you that you need to treat strategy differently, I’m inclined to listen to him.”

“I’m not a monster for thinking in terms of numbers,” Kenjirou said, though with much less conviction. “I’m _not_. This is how I’ve always done it. And it worked.”

“It worked this time,” Taichi said. “You wouldn’t be in here stress eating if you didn’t think Semi was at least a little bit right.”

“I’m not stress eating!”

“You ate thirteen cookies in less than ten minutes. You’re stress eating.”

“Go fuck a lady’s maid and leave me alone,” Kenjirou sighed.

“I would, but they always expect me to do all the work because I’m the _man_ ,” Taichi replied. “Just once, can’t one of them ride me like tomorrow’s a dream?”

“You’re gross.”

“I just need someone who will care for me as I deserve,” Taichi shrugged. “Maybe a nice alpha. Someone eager to please. Definitely someone who’ll do all the work. I’d let them do whatever they wanted to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, go find a boy then,” Kenjirou said. “It doesn’t matter to me. Just stop bothering me.”

“You feel better, admit it,” Taichi teased.

“Do not.”

“You’re not stress eating anymore.”

“It wasn’t stress eating!”

Kenjirou whirled and left. He did have to admit that Taichi had a point, and that he felt better after talking to his friend. There was a reason he and Taichi were best friends, bickering aside.

Maybe _because_ of the bickering. He always had fun arguing with Taichi, even if he was frustrated at the time. It was no fun to lose verbal arguments, and Taichi was one of the few that could keep up with him. Most people just gave up and let him win. It was boring. He’d rather work for the victory.

But he wasn’t going to let Semi treat him like a child. And he knew he was right. He’d just won them a battle, after all.

 _With Semi’s help_ , a traitorous voice in the back of his mind pointed out. Kenjirou squashed it down. He had certainly earned the right to not think about Semi Eita for the rest of the day.

If only his mind would listen.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: trouble on the horizon


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn

_“Only the player with the initiative has the right to attack” - Wilhelm Steinitz_

“He’s an arrogant, obnoxious, spoiled little rich brat.”

“Tell us how you really feel, why don’t ya, Eita,” Kaito said, hands held up in surrender. Eita kicked back his ale, feeling unusually irritated, even for the situation. “Next you’ll be tellin’ us how he killed your ma and kidnapped your sisters.”

“He’s gonna get someone killed,” Eita snapped. “This isn’t funny, Kaito.”

“I’m not sayin’ it is,” Kaito replied. “But don’tcha think you’re overreactin’ just a bit? You can’t expect him to mourn forty six soldiers he didn’t know.”

“I don’t expect that,” Eita sighed. “I’m not insane. I’m not mournin’ ‘em either. But I recognize that they were people who deserve to be honored as humans who lost their lives. You shoulda seen his face, someone coulda spilled his chess pieces and he woulda looked the same. They weren’t people to him.”

“Why does it matter?” Kaito asked. “The war’s basically over, isn’t it? You’re not gonna have to deal with him much longer.”

“I’d rather not think that when we’re not sure how this will play out,” Eita said. “This could go on for a while. It’s nearly summer, it’s not like they have to stop to wait out a blizzard.”

“Why does this particular kid get under your skin?”

“Because he has power,” Eita said. “I don’t think even he knows how much he has yet. He’s literally holdin’ lives in his hands, and I don’t think he realizes that. That’s the kind of commander that gets his soldiers killed. He won’t listen now, what makes you think he’ll listen later?”

“I still think he’s got a special way o’ getting’ under your skin,” Kaito said.

“I don’t like arrogant kids, you know that.”

“He’s not really a kid, though.”

“He’s sixteen.”

“Nearly seventeen. He’s nearin’ manhood. And you’re not far into manhood yourself.” Eita refused to admit that Kaito had a point. “You don’t have to treat him like a kid. You can treat him like an equal.”

“I do…”

“You don’t,” Kaito interrupted. “You think you know better than him because he’s young and inexperienced. You’ve admitted that he’s smart.”

Eita looked away.

“I don’t disagree that his lack of care for lives is concerning,” Kaito went on. “But you’re not bein’ fair. I doubt he’s ever seen a battle. He prob’ly doesn’t know what it is to fall in battle, and he doesn’t know what it is to lose friends to swords. His smarts are there, he just needs time to learn how to use ‘em right. You don’t have to dismiss him because he doesn’t understand everything you do.”

“I didn’t come here for you to be right,” Eita grumbled. “I came here to drink and vent.”

“You came here to bitch.”

“I will admit to nothin’.”

Eita waved for another pint, but Kaito shook his head at the barmaid.

“You’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “Any more and you won’t be movin’ for the hangover.”

“I’m hiring a new best friend,” Eita complained.

“You’d collapse without me.”

“Don’t you have duties to your wife?” Eita asked. “Somethin’ about getting’ her pregnant?”

“Mind ya business,” Kaito said, but he was grinning. “What I do with my mate in our bed isn’t your concern.”

“It is if you’re botherin’ me instead of doin’ it.”

“Semi-san?” a voice interrupted what was about to turn into a playful fight. They both turned to see a page. “The queen requests your presence.”

“What does she want with me?” Eita asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. It was harder with the amount of ale he’d had. Kaito was right _again_.

“It’s urgent,” the page said. Something about her face convinced Eita that arguing further would be a bad idea. He stood to follow her, proud of how steady he was. If someone looked too close, they would see his glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, and he might have some issues with impulse control, but otherwise he’d seem perfectly sober.

The walk from the barracks was long. Eita had to admit he could see the benefit of having him in the castle, even if he did prefer to stay with his own company. It was inconvenient to send pages looking for him this far out.

The queen zeroed in on him the minute he entered the library, and he had to resist the urge to glare at her. She was the real problem here. Shirabu was a secondary concern, but the queen was the one who was really going to get someone killed.

“You’re late,” she said curtly.

“You led me to believe we had nothing to do until we got more information,” Eita replied, as politely as he could handle. “I don’t see why spending a night with my company is a problem.”

“Because we have situations like this,” she hissed, brandishing a letter. Eita felt his blood run cold at the implication. If she was calling him out this late… “We have more information.”

Eita settled faster, sitting next to Shirabu. He felt significantly more sober.

“You smell like the barracks,” Shirabu muttered.

“That’s where I just came from, pretty boy,” Eita muttered back. “Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

He didn’t have to look to see the scowl spreading across Shirabu’s face. One point to him.

“A rider from the advance guard made it back to the Iron Wall,” the queen said, interrupting them both. “The battle we won was a trap. We were meant to win. They wanted to draw our army farther into their territory so they could divide us.”

There was silence as that settled into them all.

“How far away from our territory are they?” Ushijima asked quietly. Eita was surprised to hear from him so soon. He usually watched things play out for a bit before chiming in with his opinions about how they could be doing better. Usually, Shirabu was the first one to speak, if not Eita himself.

“When the rider left them, nearly one hundred miles north of the wall,” the queen said. She looked more distressed than Eita had ever seen her before. He remembered that her mate was in that situation, and she probably deserved a bit of sympathy, even if he didn’t want to feel it for her. “She said she barely made it out before Itachiyama closed in. The king is still stuck.”

“Our first priority should be getting him out of there,” Eita said. “We need to send more men to the Wall. We’ll work out some plan to go in and help him get back to our territory.”

“One hundred miles north of the Wall would be about here,” Ushijima chimed in, pointing on the table. “There’s a mountain pass just below them. If we can get them through here, we can hold them at the pass.”

“Itachiyama probably has a much larger army than we think,” Eita warned. “We’ll have to come up with something that counters them having a superior army, just in case.”

“I think with our style of fighting versus Itachiyama’s, holding them at the pass should be possible,” Ushijima said. He seemed much more intense than he usually did, but then, his father was in danger. “Anything that can help us prevent loss of life would be good.”

“You will lead as many soldiers as we can muster up there,” the queen broke in. “Semi-san, you will be in charge of your company, since you all seem to work well together. With Saitou-san still gone, Shirabu-kun will have to go as well. We don’t have time to wait around here to come up with a strategy. This is a rescue mission now.”

“My company can be ready to go by tomorrow morning,” Eita said.

“If not tomorrow, I can muster a large force in two days,” Ushijima agreed.

“Shirabu-kun?” the queen asked. It was only now that Eita realized Shirabu hadn’t said a word since the queen had read the news to them. He turned to see a shell shocked look on Shirabu’s face. He shook himself out of it to answer the queen’s question.

“I’ll be ready to leave when everyone else is,” he promised. They stood to leave and prepare, but as soon as they were out of the library, Eita grabbed Shirabu’s arm.

“This wasn’t your fault,” he said. Shirabu’s blank look turned to a truly ugly glare. He didn’t seem at all pleased things hadn’t gone his way. “No one can plan for everything. You gave us a solid strategy, and it worked. You can do it again.”

“Why are you being nice to me now?” Shirabu snapped.

“Trying something,” Eita admitted honestly.

“Trying something?”

“Not treating you like you’re a kid because you’re inexperienced.”

Shirabu didn’t reply.

“Just focus on your next move,” Eita told him. Shirabu mumbled something Eita didn’t quite catch. “Sorry?”

“I only won that battle because they wanted me to,” Shirabu said a little louder. He looked surprisingly vulnerable.

“That’s not the only reason,” Eita argued. “I wouldn’t have agreed to your plan if it wasn’t a good one. It kept loss of life to a minimum. Just because we were supposed to win doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have taken as many of us with them as they could. You didn’t let them.”

“You were telling me yesterday I wasn’t taking those forty six seriously enough,” Shirabu pointed out.

“You were treating them like pieces instead of men,” Eita explained. “But you did keep a lot more than just them from dying. You should be proud of that.”

“I don’t need you to praise me.”

“I’m going to do it anyway.”

Shirabu still looked surprisingly vulnerable. It was a good look for him. He lost that nose in the air look.

“Get some sleep,” Eita said. “All we can do now is pack it up and go.”

“Semi-san.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell anyone we had this conversation, and they’ll never find your body.”

Eita stared at him in shock.

“Was that a death threat?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Brat,” Eita shook his head. He was almost disgusted at how fond that was. “I’ll remember this the next time you look like a kicked puppy.”

“I did not!”

“Totally did.”

“Fuck you!”

“Quite a mouth on you there, pretty boy,” Eita teased. It was worth it to see Shirabu turn an ugly shade of red. This was how Shirabu worked best – with a fire lit under him. “Someone been teachin’ you naughty words?”

“I’m not a child!”

“Not with a mouth like that, you’re not,” Eita laughed. “Go get some sleep. I’ll fight you tomorrow if you want.”

“I know how to use a sword.”

“I bet you do,” Eita conceded. “But I could still beat you in a fight. Your weapon is your brain. So go rest it so we can use it when we need it.”

He turned and left, Shirabu looking shocked at the compliment, no matter how backhanded it had been.

“Go die!” he shrieked, and Eita had to resist the urge to laugh. He walked to the barracks to tell everyone to be ready to go by tomorrow morning.

“You were right, by the way,” he said, finding Kaito. “As if you’ve ever been wrong.”

“What in particular was I right about this time?”

“Treatin’ Shirabu like an equal gets me a lot farther,” Eita said. “I think I can work with him now. He’s learnin’ fast.”

“Don’t ya look proud,” Kaito grinned. “I’d almost say you like him.”

“He’s not too bad,” Eita said.

“Oh no,” Kaito said in mock distress. “You _like_ him.”

“I what now?”

“You _like like_ Shirabu,” Kaito teased. Eita rolled his eyes.

“Please. I just learned how to be in the same room with him. I’m not about to try goin' after him.”

“He could be your one true love.” Kaito couldn’t keep himself from laughing at that. “Just think. Your children would be the sassiest brats the world’s ever seen.”

“You can stay, you know,” Eita rolled his eyes. “Mari’s a better fighter than you.”

“You wound me.”

The next few days would be insane. A few laughs were what everyone needed now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Shirabu's never left the citadel. Also, Goshiki


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirabu prepares to leave, and Goshiki comes in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away on a class field trip and fell behind on writing and I'll be honest, I'm pretty sick of this chapter, so whether it's actually good or not it's getting posted now.

_“Good offense and good defense both begin with good development” - Bruce A. Moon_

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kenjirou asked. He kept his head down, focused on making sure he had everything he needed. If he looked up, his father would know something was wrong.

“You’re not usually this panicked,” his father said. “Are you nervous because you’ve never left the citadel?”

“I’m fine, Papa,” he insisted.

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

Kenjirou took a deep breath and turned around, locking eyes with his father.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be fine,” his father said. “You have a strong mind, and you’ll be with Ushijima-sama. He’s always looked after you.”

“I don’t need to be looked after,” Kenjirou said. “Besides, I’ll be with Semi-san, not Ushijima-sama.”

“He seems like a good man,” his father said, a smile letting Kenjirou know he was teasing. “I’m sure he’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“We don’t get along.”

“You didn’t get along with Taichi for a while either,” his father pointed out. “Now he’s your best friend.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to get along with Semi-san,” Kenjirou argued.

“But it doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“Why do you have to be right, Papa?” Kenjirou asked.

“I’m your papa. It’s my job,” his father shrugged. “Don’t worry so much. You can do this. You’ve been training for it your whole life. The queen recognizes your skill. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Kenjirou pouted. His father was right, but he still felt jittery.

“Are you going to miss me?” his father asked, grinning. Kenjirou allowed himself to be pulled into a hug, wrapping his arms around to grasp at his father’s back. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know,” Kenjirou said. “I’ll make you proud, Papa.”

“I’m always proud of you.”

Kenjirou pulled away from the hug.

“I have a few more things to take care of,” he said. “I’ll make sure to say goodbye before I leave.”

“Do you have everything you need?” his father asked. “Clothes? Books? Your medicine?”

Kenjirou nodded. The first thing he’d packed had been the herb he took as a tea once a week to prevent himself from going into heat. Most omegas wouldn’t touch the stuff, too worried it might affect their fertility, but Kenjirou was too busy to spend a week out of every three months writhing in sexual frustration. As it was, he could barely stand to go through it once a year, though the palace physician had warned him strongly against skipping a yearly heat entirely, telling him that his body was built to go through heat periodically and it would go through heat eventually whether he wanted it to or not. It would just hurt worse if he tried to stave it off for too long.

“You don’t have to hover, Papa,” Kenjirou told him. “I’m fine.”

His father nodded, wandering off to take care of his own business. Kenjirou went in search of Oohira Ai. He needed the captain of the guard for this part of his plan.

He found her making her rounds on the castle wall, looking out over the citadel and beyond. From the top of the wall, he could see over the edge of the city wall and out to the great plain to the north that was eventually broken by the Iron Wall.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked politely. He knew he was making a request to someone he barely knew, and from what he’d heard about Oohira, he’d get nowhere without earning her respect.

“You’re the queen’s pet strategist, aren’t you?” she asked. She didn’t say it in a mean way, but he still bristled at her words. He was his own person, with his own talents. Still, he swallowed his reaction and went on.

“I have a favor to ask of you, actually,” he said. She tilted her chin back. Even shorter than him, he felt like she was looking down at him. “We need a big army to get the king out of the tight spot he’s in. We’ve called every standing soldier here in the citadel, but we don’t have time for everyone to get here from wherever they are in the kingdom. Do you have any guards you think would work in an army?”

“You’d steal the castle’s defenses?” Oohira asked. Kenjirou could already feel that he’d walked into a sticky spot. “How are we supposed to defend ourselves if Itachiyama gets past the army like they did fourteen years ago?”

“I’m not asking for everyone you have,” Kenjirou tried to placate her. “Just some to add to the army. We need everyone we can get. And if Itachiyama really does get past what we’re sending up, a few men from you won’t make much of a difference.”

“You’re banking on the mountain to save us,” she said. She sounded like she was scolding him. “This city isn’t impregnable, you know. The mountain path makes it hard for another army to get up here without us stopping them, but it’s not a perfect defense. There’s no such thing. Itachiyama never took this citadel because of the guard. Not because of the mountain.”

“I know,” Kenjirou assured her. “I was here.”

“There’s no way you were old enough to remember,” she said, but she looked softer now.

“Just a few extra soldiers,” Kenjirou pleaded. “Any extra you can offer. Please.”

She eyed him critically, before sighing and flicking her hair out of her eyes in a nervous gesture.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I have around ten guards I can spare. If they agree, they’ll go with you.”

“Thank you,” Kenjirou said. “I just have one more favor. This one is personal, and I would owe you a lot.”

“That first request wasn’t a personal favor?”

“That was more…a favor for the kingdom.”

“Fine. What’s your other request?” He could tell he was starting to lose her, so he hurried on.

“Do you have anyone who would work as a personal guard?” he asked. “For Ushijima-sama. He has one already, but I would feel better if he had a second for battle.”

“That’s your personal favor?” Oohira asked. “Not a guard for yourself?”

Kenjirou hadn’t even thought to ask for that, but he didn’t think he’d really need one.

“Ushijima-sama is my friend,” Kenjirou told her. “I don’t want him to fall in battle, and having two people dedicated to keeping him alive would help with that.”

She still looked skeptical, so he lowered his head into a bow.

“Please, Oohira-san,” he begged. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Stop bowing,” she commanded. “And Oohira-san is my mother-in-law. Call me Ai, everyone does.”

He straightened to see her looking at him.

“I think Goshiki is the one you want for this,” she told him. “Goshiki Tsutomu. He’s kind of new, but he’s been trained well, and he shows a lot more promise as a soldier than he ever would as a guard.”

“Why did he join the castle guard, then?”

“He’s…too young to join the army,” Ai admitted. “He just turned sixteen.”

“You…recommend a child to play personal guard to the crown prince?” Kenjirou asked. He was working really hard to stay polite at this point.

“He’s got the skills for it,” Ai insisted. “He might need some smoothing around the edges if Ushijima-sama ever wants to show him off. He doesn’t exactly have the best manners, but I wouldn’t have let him into the guard if he didn’t have skill with a sword.”

Kenjirou tried to keep his face in its schooled blankness.

“Come with me,” Ai sighed. “I can tell you don’t believe me. Come see him. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Kenjirou followed her, admittedly curious. Was Goshiki some lowborn kid trying to climb his way up to a high position in the army? It wasn’t an unusual goal. After all, it seemed to be what Semi had done.

She led him to a place with a few younger guards training. Calling out his name startled a boy with black hair and ruler straight bangs into looking at them. As he jogged over, Kenjirou was annoyed to see that the boy was taller than him.

And he looked so _young_. Was he really sixteen? Kenjirou was just shy of seventeen himself, but he knew he didn’t look this young.

“Goshiki, this is Shirabu Kenjirou,” Ai said. “He’s looking for someone to be a personal guard to Ushijima-sama.”

Kenjirou swore he could see Goshiki’s ears perk up like a dog’s.

“Really? I can really be a personal guard?” Goshiki asked. His perkiness was already starting to grate on Kenjirou. Was he going to regret this decision? Taichi was probably enough to defend Ushijima after all…

“I don’t think…” he started, but Ai cut him off.

“Why don’t you spar with Shirabu to show him your skills?” Ai suggested. Kenjirou tried not to roll his eyes, he really did. Still, he took the practice sword that was offered to him. He wasn’t a master of sword fighting like Ushijima was, but he could hold his own against a new guard. He stood at the ready, watching the grin drop off Goshiki’s face.

For just a moment, he looked a little scary.

Then he was gone.

Kenjirou whirled to track his movements as he closed in from the side. He barely had time to get his sword up to stop the attack Goshiki aimed at him. He stepped back, bracing himself again for that speed.

Goshiki’s eyes were intense, and despite himself, he hesitated, and before he could rally himself, his sword was already skittering across the floor. He panted, looking up to see Goshiki’s face fade from intense back to the happy grin it was sporting when he walked in.

“Did I do well?” he asked. Kenjirou wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer, but Ai beat him to it anyway.

“Of course you did,” she said, ruffling his hair. She had to stand on her toes, and even then he had to bend down a bit. “I’m sure Shirabu is very impressed with you.”

“Yes,” Kenjirou agreed, startled to answering by the prompt. “I can take you to meet Ushijima-sama and Tai…Kawanishi. They’ll tell you what you need to do.”

Goshiki nodded and followed him. He chattered away, but Kenjirou found he could just let Goshiki go with a nod every now and then. He tuned the younger boy out, instead thinking. Ushijima would probably take to him well enough. Kenjirou couldn’t think of a single person he’d ever really disliked. Taichi would be more hit or miss. He was lazy and laid back enough that he could get along with most people, but if he didn’t like someone, there was no budging him on it.

“Listen, when we meet them, try to be less…” Kenjirou waved his hand in Goshiki’s direction.

“Yus!” he agreed loudly.

“Don’t agree if you don’t understand what I mean,” Kenjirou sighed. “Just…try to tone it down? They don’t need to be yelled at.”

“Yus!” Goshiki said again, but quieter this time. Kenjirou decided that was the best he was going to get.

“Taichi? Ushijima-sama?” he called, poking his head into Ushijima’s room. They were both there, and looked up at his call. “I have someone I want you both to meet.”

He waved Goshiki in.

“This is Goshiki Tsutomu,” he said. “Goshiki, this is Ushijima-sama, and his personal guard Kawanishi Taichi. Ushijima-sama, I’ve recruited him to be a second personal guard for you when we head north.”

“Nice to meet you!” Goshiki said, too loudly again, as he dropped into a low bow.

“You don’t have to bow like that,” Taichi said lazily. Goshiki snapped up straight, heading straight for him to bombard him with questions. Kenjirou grinned to himself as he turned to Ushijima. Taichi could handle himself for a few minutes.

“Another personal guard?” Ushijima asked quietly.

“Battles are dangerous,” Kenjirou said in explanation.

“You’re worried about me?”

“Of course. You’re my friend.”

They both turned in silence to watch Goshiki and Taichi. He’d backed up at first in the onslaught of questions, but now they’d settled into a comfortable distance. Taichi no longer had his hands up in defense. He looked…

Kenjirou had never seen that look on his friend’s face before. He’d seen Taichi interested in sleeping with someone, even interested in trying a longer courtship, though his duties as personal guard didn’t allow for much time for a true courtship. He’d been interested in people before, and Kenjirou knew the face that went with that, the look Taichi got right before he told someone they could do whatever they wanted with him as long as it was fun for both of them.

He’d never seen Taichi look _enthralled_ like this before. In the past, all his courtships had been initiated by the other person, and Taichi had regarded them with a kind of bored appreciation. Never this active admiration.

He was going to be _insufferable_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Kawashiki


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kawanishi meets Goshiki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sticks m leggy out* Kawashiki

_THE ROOKES_

_The Rookes are reason on both sides,_  
Which keepe the corner houses still,   
And warily stand to watch their tides,   
By secret art to worke thier will,   
To take sometime a theefe unseen,   
Might mischiefe mean to King or Queene."  
-Nicholas Breton, The Chesse Play

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the restless type.”

In most cases, Ushijima would have been right. Now, though Taichi was narrowly avoiding pacing, and being called on it wasn’t helping.

“If we’re going to go, I’d rather just go,” Taichi tried to explain himself. “We were aiming to leave yesterday, and now we’re just waiting around.”

“It takes time to organize an army the size we need to leave,” Ushijima said. If not for the fiddling of his fingers, Taichi would have called him calm. After years of friendship, he knew better. “If we do a little extra preparation now, we’ll move faster when we ride out. We’ll get to the Wall sooner this way.”

For someone who was very clearly worried about his father, it would be incredibly hard for someone who didn’t know Ushijima to see that he was disturbed at all. Luckily, Taichi knew his friend well.

They’d been together since childhood as Taichi trained to be Ushijima’s personal guard. He’d shown promise for it from the first time he’d picked up a sword, and with his family’s connections, it wasn’t hard for him to secure the place for himself.

It was almost unfair now, though. He’d just turned eighteen, just began his time as a guard without a teacher, without having anyone guiding him. His prince’s safety was in his hands, and his alone, as soon as he reached the goal he’d been working towards.

Not that he could voice any of it. He would seem ungrateful, and he wasn’t. He would fight to the death for Ushijima, not because it was his job, but because Ushijima was his friend. It was hard not to feel like the world was conspiring against him, though.

“Taichi? Ushijima-sama?”

They both looked up to see Kenjirou leaning into the room.

“I have someone I want you both to meet,” he said. He stepped into the room, waving someone else behind him.

 _Cute_ , Taichi thought before he could stop himself. It probably wasn’t appropriate, but he wasn’t wrong. The boy with Kenjirou was nearly as tall as Taichi, with black hair and bright eyes. He smelled cleanly of alpha, of rain on warm earth, and he looked strong.

“This is Goshiki Tsutomu,” Kenjirou went on. “Goshiki, this is Ushijima-sama, and his personal guard Kawanishi Taichi. Ushijima-sama, I’ve recruited him to be a second personal guard for you when we head north.”

“Nice to meet you!” Goshiki practically shouted, snapping into a low bow. He must have been nervous.

“You don’t have to bow like that,” Taichi drawled, trying to take pity on him. Goshiki whipped back up, focusing on him. Had his eyes been that intense before?

“You’re the king’s personal guard?” he asked, standing nearly too close. Taichi held up his hands on instinct. “Please teach me, senpai!”

 _Senpai_. That was a word that wasn’t used often up here. It was an older word of respect, favored in the south, but falling out of use this far north.

“Of course,” Taichi agreed, because he wasn’t sure what else to do. He was used to fading into the background. It was actually nice that way, because people were exhausting.

“When are we leaving for the Wall?’ Goshiki asked.

“Probably tomorrow at first light.”

“What should I bring?”

“Um. Some clothes and your armor and weapons?”

“Where will we leave from? What route will we take?”

Goshiki’s face was right in front of Taichi’s now, and every time he spoke it sent breath gusting across Taichi’s nose.

“Slow down,” Taichi pleaded. “I promise I’ll tell you everything you need to know before we leave.”

“Oh! Sorry, senpai,” Goshiki said, nodding his head in a slight bow of apology. “Shirabu-san warned me not to be so loud.”

He stepped back, and Taichi almost felt bad for how withdrawn he suddenly looked.

“You don’t have to call me senpai, you know,” Taichi told him. “You can’t be that much younger than me, and I don’t care too much about formalities anyway.”

“But you’ve been doing this so much longer than me,” Goshiki protested. “Haven’t you? How long have you been the prince’s guard?”

“Since I was thirteen,” Taichi said. “I’ve only been a solo guard for a few weeks, though. I just turned eighteen.”

Goshiki smiled, and Taichi found that, when he wasn’t asking questions a mile a minute and shoving his face in close, this kind of attention was pretty good. It was nice to be asked sometimes. He was always surrounded by people who already knew most things about him, or didn’t care to ask.

He was almost never the center of attention, but the way Goshiki focused made him feel like he was the only person in the room. Taichi idly wondered if he’d be the same way when he was courting someone. He was probably the type to go after the person he chose with everything he had.

“I’m sixteen,” Goshiki offered. “I turn seventeen at the end of the summer. My parents told me I was too young to join the army, so I joined the castle guard, but Shirabu-san said he needed an extra guard for Ushijima-sama for the war.”

So that was it. Leave it to Kenjirou to worry about both of them, even if he’d deny it later.

Goshiki did sound a little young to be joining the army, but as a personal guard to the crown prince, he would probably keep back from the action with Ushijima. They wouldn’t put a prince on the front lines, so he probably wouldn’t see too much actual fighting.

“I’m sure you already know how to use a sword if Kenjirou brought you here,” Taichi told him. Goshiki was the exact kind of cheerful that Kenjirou couldn’t stand to be around for long.

“I beat him in a fight!” Goshiki puffed his chest out proudly. Taichi breathed out through his nose in startled laughter.

“I bet he loved that,” he smirked. Kenjirou hated losing.

“I don’t think he was mad,” Goshiki said.

“Beating Kenjirou in a fight doesn’t say much, though,” Taichi told him. “You’ll have to fight me too so I can see how you work.”

“Can we go right now?” Goshiki asked. His eagerness was cute, and Taichi had to admit he was starting to be drawn in.

“Might as well,” Taichi shrugged. “I have nothing important to do until first light anyway.”

“Come on then!”

Taichi couldn’t help smiling, again, as they walked for the door. He caught the shocked look Kenjirou sent his way, but thought little of it until Kenjirou grabbed his arm on the way out.

“You’re not seriously thinking of sleeping with him are you? He’s a child,” Kenjirou said.

“Calm down,” Taichi waved his hand. “Just because I sleep around a little doesn’t mean I have sex with every person that crosses my path.”

“You’re giving him that look, though.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I want you in my pants’ look,” Kenjirou snapped. “The look you get whenever some hot person crosses your path and you decide you want a one night stand.”

“Relax. I’m definitely not looking for a one night stand here,” Taichi assured him. He wasn’t looking for much of anything, except maybe more of that focused attention when Goshiki had slowed his questions down.

“Oh no. I was afraid of that,” Kenjirou groaned. “You’re _smitten_.”

“I’m not smitten,” Taichi argued. “He just interests me. If I’m smitten with him, you’re smitten with Semi.”

“I am _not_.”

“Sorry, can’t chat. I have to go see how he fights and make sure you didn’t bring me a newbie for no reason.”

“He’s good,” Kenjirou said. “I hate to admit it, but I wouldn’t have agreed to Ai’s choice if he wasn’t worth it. He knows what he’s doing with that sword.”

“Good.”

Goshiki looked comfortable enough in Ushijima’s personal training room, taking in the nicer accommodations with ease. He picked up a longsword, checking the balance. Deciding he didn’t like it, he put it back and reached for another, testing it and turning back to Taichi.

He settled himself in a fighting stance. Rather than pick up a sword and face him, Taichi evaluated the stance itself.

“You’re trained for team fighting, aren’t you?” he asked. Goshiki nodded. “You stand like you’re going to be in a shield wall with a bunch of other people watching your back. That’s not what you’re going to expect with us. Most likely, you’ll be cavalry with Ushijima-sama, and your job isn’t to hold a line, but to defend the prince.”

He side stepped, sliding in under Goshiki’s guard and getting close to his face, holding the sword away from him. Goshiki’s eyes were wide.

“You’ll need better footwork for this,” Taichi told him. “You’ll need to be good at fighting against multiple attackers, and you’ll need to be good at that while also keeping defense at the back of your mind.”

Goshiki twisted in his hold, using a combination of brute strength and surprise to get away and dance a few steps back. Good. His footwork fundamentals seemed to be solid. He would learn what he needed to fast.

“Good reflexes,” Taichi complimented him. “You’re going to need those.”

He finally picked up his own practice sword, the one he always used that fit in his hand nicely and balanced perfectly.

“I’m going to attack you,” he told Goshiki. “See that pole behind you?” Goshiki nodded. “Don’t let me touch it.”

He threw himself into a swing, feeling the metal ring in his hands as it clashed with Goshiki’s parry. He attacked again, repost, slash, slide. Goshiki met him blow for blow, following his movement as he swept to the side, but not allowing him to circle behind.

They went, slashing at each other, for how long Taichi couldn’t tell. He could feel sweat dripping down his neck, could see Goshiki’s cheeks flushing.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the best person to test Goshiki’s defensive abilities. He himself had always been trained in the opposite. He was the last line of defense, not a knight to send out into battle to destroy the enemy. He stopped the enemy from getting to Ushijima.

Goshiki could keep up, and finally, when they were both panting and sweaty, Taichi stepped back.

“Good work,” he praised, watching Goshiki puff up under the compliment. “Kenjirou was right about you. You’ll fit in well as a guard.”

“Thank you, senpai!” Goshiki said, volume increasing again. Taichi didn’t mind so much this time. He was used to it by now.

“You would have been wasted as a castle guard,” Taichi told him. “You’re smart, and you think on your feet well. You move without having to overanalyze everything you do, and your fundamentals are solid. There’s not much I have to teach you about battle.”

“I’ll be a good guard, then?”

“For battle, anyway,” Taichi said. “Is your family highborn?”

Goshiki nodded.

“And do you know your etiquette?”

Goshiki made a face.

“I know how I’m supposed to act with other nobles,” he grimaced. “I just…forget, sometimes.”

“Part of being a prince’s guard is being with him in public as well,” Taichi said. “You have to act like a noble, because you’re representing the royal family with him. Don’t worry too much, since people mostly ignore me.”

“I don’t see why they would,” Goshiki looked puzzled. “You’re pretty.”

Taichi blushed. It was just so surprising. He’d been called a lot of things in his life, but pretty was almost never one of them.

“Th-that’s enough for today,” he stuttered. Goshiki was just full of surprises, wasn’t he? “Meet us in the courtyard at first light. We’ll ride out for the Wall then.”

Goshiki nodded.

“Thank you!” he said again. Taichi ruffled his hair, soaked with sweat and course, but nice despite the roughness.

“Try to get some sleep,” he advised, and they went their separate ways. He was interested, he could admit that. If Goshiki was interested back, he was probably the type to pursue it on his own.

Then again, they were about to go off to war. There wouldn’t be much time for courting now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kawanishi is insufferable with a crush and Shirabu is Done


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An actual line in my outline, because I am a real writer: Shirabu bitches his face right off about Goshiki

_“Before the endgame, the Gods have placed the middle game” - Siegbert Tarrasch_

“Shirabu-kun.” Kenjirou looked up to see the queen beckoning to him. Maybe she had some last minute advice? “Give this to my husband when you get to the Wall,” she instructed, handing him a small scroll.

“A message from you?” Kenjirou asked. The queen hadn’t struck him as the romantic type, but even she had to feel something with her mate so far away.

“Instructions,” she explained. “I want you taking the lead on strategy when you get to the Wall, and I need to make sure my husband understands this.”

“Take lead?”

“I want him to understand that you are the strategist, not Semi,” she said. “Knowing him, he’ll expect you two to work as equals. Ultimately, Semi will be there to advise you and carry out your plans, not to be a strategist. Your word will carry more weight than his. After all, you’re the one who won us that first battle.”

“It wasn’t just me,” Kenjirou protested. He knew she was complimenting him, but somehow, it felt like she was dropping an iron chain around his neck and pulling it tight. “Semi and Ushijima-sama helped, and we were supposed to win that battle anyway.”

“But it was your plan,” the queen insisted. “You came up with it on your own. Everyone else only added to it. You will act as chief strategist, not Semi Eita, as Saitou-san would in your place.”

“Yes, Highness,” Kenjirou agreed, bowing his head. He tried to feel happier about that. After all, it was what he’d been working for his whole life, wasn’t it? This was what he wanted.

"And Shirabu-kun?"

"Yes?"

"Save this kingdom at any cost. I don't care what the price is."

He slipped the letter in the top of his shirt. It was probably best to carry it close. It carried the seal of the queen, after all. He mounted his horse, looking back to the castle as Ushijima called for them all to form up and ride out.

It would be a long time before he could sit in his spot in the library and read a book again.

He was situated close to the front, but behind a line of men to shield the prince. Ushijima was close to his side, which meant that Taichi and Goshiki were close too.

Goshiki didn’t seem to understand the concept of a peaceful ride, because he was chattering away incessantly. Taichi, useless slut that he was, was letting him go, chattering back in a way that was unusual for him. He was always in the background. As far as Kenjirou knew, he liked it in the background.

But here he was, chattering away like a chicken. Even Ushijima was chiming in from time to time. Kenjirou’s hopes of a quiet journey were gone.

“Not a fan of the new kid?” a voice to his side asked. Kenjirou turned to see that Semi had worked his way in closer.

“What are you doing?” he asked flatly.

“Bonding,” Semi shrugged. Even with his accent carefully controlled, he still sounded like someone from the village. “We’re going to be working together for a while now. Might as well learn to deal with each other.”

The letter in his shirt seemed to burn against his chest. He should distance himself from Semi now, shouldn’t he? If the queen got her way, he would be ranked above Semi in the planning process. It would be better if Semi wasn’t under the impression that they were friends.

“He’s too loud,” Kenjirou found himself saying before he could stop himself.

“Your friend seems to like him.”

“Taichi likes just about anyone he thinks is cute enough to sleep with,” Kenjirou grumbled. “And because he likes making my life difficult, ‘people he thinks are cute enough to sleep with’ is a pretty big group. He likes everyone.”

“He seems to like alphas,” Semi commented, nodding at Goshiki.

“He likes _everyone_ ,” Kenjirou complained. “Man, woman, alpha, beta, omega…he likes them all.”

“Even you?” Semi asked. Kenjirou made a face.

“Ew. No. I would never sleep with Taichi.”

“Why? Because he’s like your brother or something?”

“Because he’s Taichi, and even if my heat was killing me and he was the only one available to help me I’d let the heat kill me.”

That startled a true bark of laughter out of Semi, and Kenjirou felt weirdly proud of himself.

“So what do you like?” Kenjirou was about to start shouting when he noticed that Semi was teasing him.

“Peace and quiet,” he said instead, and Semi snorted with laughter.

“Fine, fine, I can take a hint.” Semi shook his head. “I’ll leave you be, then.”

Something Kenjirou probably would have known if he’d ever left the citadel before now was that travelling for a long time was boring if you had no one to talk to. The trees basically all looked the same, any animals had long since fled from the sounds of horses, and going up a mountain all day got old really fast. He could only entertain himself with his own daydreams for so long, especially when part of him was still worrying itself in circles about what the queen had said to him.

So his choices were to either stay silent and bored, join in on Goshiki and Taichi’s conversation, or swallow his pride and admit to Semi that he actually did want the other man’s company.

Silent and bored it was.

He wasn’t used to being annoyed by silence. He didn’t have many friends, true, but the ones he did have he usually stayed close to. Hardly a day had gone by in the past five years where he hadn’t spoken to Taichi, and even longer since he’d gone long without speaking to Ushijima. Now, though, Goshiki was monopolizing both of them, and Kenjirou was feeling surprisingly lonely about that.

And Taichi was interested, truly interested in Goshiki. That was something he’d never had to deal with before. His best friend hadn’t really cared about the people he had his flings with. In Kenjirou’s opinion, they hadn’t been worth caring about. He still didn’t see what was so different about Goshiki and why Taichi was so taken with him.

He supposed he could try to draw Ushijima into their own conversation, but seeing as Ushijima was flanked on both sides by Taichi and Goshiki, it was unlikely he could avoid those two for long.

In the end, it was a blessing when they stopped for the night. The trip up to the Iron Wall would take a few days, and in the meantime they would be making camp along the way for when they stopped for the night. Tents were set up in a flurry, with the tent for the prince and his people at the center.

“You’re with us,” Ushijima said to him quietly, stopping him as he helped carry supplies. Kenjirou nodded, grateful he’d be in a tent with Ushijima and Taichi. He’d expected to either be alone – not much fun after the lonely day he’d had – or paired with some strangers – worse.

Goshiki offered to take first watch at the tent flap, so the rest of them settled down to sleep. Taichi stayed closest to Ushijima, their backs practically touching, and Kenjirou settled down on the palette facing Taichi.

“You didn’t look to happy on the ride out,” Taichi said softly, trying not to disturb either Ushijima or Goshiki. “I’d have thought you’d be excited about seeing things outside of the citadel.”

“It’s just a bunch of trees and rocks,” Kenjirou whispered back. “I can see that in the citadel.”

“But the fun is in the journey, with friends, and…oh,” Taichi sighed quietly. “You were by yourself the entire time. No wonder you were so bored.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bored?” Kenjirou snapped under his breath. “There’s nothing to do for hours.”

“You could’ve come talked to us,” Taichi pointed out. “That’s why you’re riding next to us, isn’t it? We were right beside you the entire time.”

“You mean I could’ve come talked to Goshiki.” That came out a lot more bitter than intended. Taichi’s eyes narrowed.

“You know I’m not going to stop being your friend just because Goshiki’s around, right?” he said. “You don’t have to be jealous of him.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Sh!” Taichi hushed him as Ushijima stirred. “You could’ve talked to Semi, too. I saw him next to you in the beginning.”

“I don’t need him to keep me company,” Kenjirou protested, even though he would have enjoyed exactly that.

“You’re going to go out of your mind with boredom,” Taichi warned. “I’ve seen you when you’re alone with your thoughts for too long. You turn into a real bitch.”

“What are we even doing right now?” Kenjirou sighed. “We’re not a couple of teenage omegas at a sleepover.”

“I hate to point out the obvious, but you are a teenage omega,” Taichi grinned.

“Die.”

“Seriously, talk to someone for the rest of the trip,” Taichi advised. “You’ll feel better. We’re riding too fast for you to read, even if you’d brought a book with you.”

The low murmur of their conversation lulled Kenjirou into a doze, though he couldn’t quite fall all the way asleep. The palette did little to protect him from the hard ground, and no matter what position he shifted to, it always felt like a rock was digging into his hip or shoulder.

He was stirred from his doze when Taichi switched watches with Goshiki. The younger alpha fell heavily on the palette next to Kenjirou, scooting back so he was close enough to defend Ushijima before closing his eyes. It was like he was asleep the minute he hit the pillow.

Now that he was too asleep to be talking, Kenjirou could admit just to himself that the kid was pretty sweet. Kenjirou wasn’t the best at being honest with himself, but even he could admit that he was being a little hard on Goshiki when Goshiki had done nothing to him.

Maybe he was jealous, but Taichi’s assurance of their friendship was more comforting than he wanted to think about. He didn’t have many friends. He just refused to lose the few he did have. Taichi was his best friend, and it was good to know that Goshiki wouldn’t take that away from him.

He fell back into a doze considering that he liked Goshiki a lot more when the other was asleep.

He snapped awake when the other members of the tent started stretching. He’d always been a bit of a light sleeper, and the hard conditions they’d been in hadn’t helped. He felt groggy in a way he rarely did, and had to remind himself that at the pace they were going, it would only be two more nights before he was in a warm bed at the Iron Wall.

Kenjirou did take Taichi’s advice, and found that Goshiki was a lot more tolerable when he stayed on the opposite side of the line the four of them formed. His perkiness was diluted over the distance.

This day was a lot more tolerable than the last. While Kenjirou was still sore in his saddle, still tired from a night of poor sleep, and still bored at the long journey with nothing new to see, the chatter of his friends next to him made everything a little bit better.

It was less boring, anyway.

When they stopped for the night again, it was a much faster process of getting everything set up and everyone settled, men around the perimeter watching for danger and Goshiki and Taichi once again guarding the tent flap. Unlike last night, Taichi took first watch, so Kenjirou tuned out both Ushijima and Goshiki settling down for sleep. Both were too tired to stay awake for long, so soon Kenjirou was the only one still awake.

As the two alphas next to him started to fill the tent with their light snores, Kenjirou decided that this wasn’t so bad, all things considered. The queen was right, he’d come up with a battle plan all on his own, and he would do it again.

They wouldn’t lose the war with him planning it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: a rare Ushijima POV


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima considers his situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually a huge fan of Ushijima and Shirabu being very platonically close, so this is all the UshiShira friendship I want to see in the world

_“Help your pieces so they can help you” - Paul Morphy_

Wakatoshi worried about his friend. He’d been worried about Kenjirou since before they’d left the citadel.

While Kenjirou presented himself as fairly level headed, they’d been friends for long enough for Wakatoshi to know better. Kenjirou could be hot headed, and he was prone to losing his temper if things didn’t go his way, no matter how he tried to hide it.

He was also scared of change. It was no wonder, in the end, that he was jittery. Not that anyone else seemed to notice. They just saw Kenjirou acting aloof.

So Wakatoshi took it upon himself to take care of Kenjirou. After all, he’d always had his father up until now, and as the alpha closest to him, it made sense for Wakatoshi to look after Kenjirou’s interests.

He invited Kenjirou to stay in his tent with Kawanishi and Goshiki. The look of relief that he quickly covered up was worth the inevitable discomfort of having three people sleep in a tent that was barely meant for two. Kenjirou may have been tall, but he was slight, so they would fit well enough.

He wasn’t sure what to make of how Kawanishi was treating Kenjirou. They were close friends, with a bond between the two of them that neither shared with him. He would have expected Kawanishi to be the one worrying about Kenjirou, but he either hadn’t noticed the problem or hadn’t acknowledged it. Either way, he didn’t seem to be doing anything.

It wasn’t until their second day travelling that Wakatoshi finally decided enough was enough. It was time to talk to Kenjirou.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked quietly after they had finished setting up the tent. Kenjirou nodded, following him in. He’d already asked Goshiki and Kawanishi to stand far enough so they wouldn’t be able to listen in.

“What’s wrong?” Kenjirou asked.

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kenjirou shrugged, turning to shuffle things around. He was avoiding now.

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” Wakatoshi pressed. “I can tell you’re not comfortable. You’re pretending to be fine right now, but you’re not.”

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Kenjirou asked, though he stopped moving. Slowly, he turned back around to face Wakatoshi. “I’ll be perfectly safe, and we’ll get the king back, and you’ll all be fine. I have nothing to worry about.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being scared,” Wakatoshi tried to reassure him. “We’re all scared, in our own ways.”

“I’m not _scared_ ,” Kenjirou snapped at him, in a way few people did. A long friendship had burned any of that fear of earning his anger through disrespect out of him. “I don’t have anything to be scared _of_.”

“You have plenty to be afraid of,” Wakatoshi said quietly. “It’s war. People are going to die, and you have to be a part of that when you’re not done with your training yet.”

“Is that what you think I’m so scared about?”

“I don’t know what’s scaring you,” Wakatoshi admitted honestly. “I just know that something is indeed wrong. You hide it well, but I can see you stress eating. You have dark circles under your eyes. You haven’t been sleeping well. You’re even more quiet than you usually are, and you barely even talk to Kawanishi anymore.”

“Fine!” Kenjirou spat, then quieter, “fine.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

“This?”

“Any of this,” Kenjirou waved his hands around. “Leaving the citadel, travelling with an army, planning a war. I think I can do it, and everyone believes in me, but what if I can’t?”

“It’s not all on your shoulders, you know,” Wakatoshi pointed out. “You have all of us. You have Semi. You have a team to support you. Just because you haven’t done this before doesn’t mean none of us have. You can rely on us a little.”

“The queen said I’m supposed to be the head of this campaign,” Kenjirou said.

“My mother is not the king,” Wakatoshi said, perhaps more harshly than he meant to. He wasn’t fond of how his mother had been treating Kenjirou. It was no wonder he was so nervous now. “She is not the one who leads us in battle. My father is, and my father wants you to work with Semi and everyone else. That’s why he called Semi back. He knows that the way we defend ourselves is based on all of us working together. We set up everyone to take full advantage of their individual skill, and together, we can do things none of us could do on our own.”

Kenjirou looked a little shocked at the long speech. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt, and Wakatoshi noticed a flash of paper. He was carrying a letter? The only person that would have sent him north with a letter he had to keep this safe was the queen.

What did she think she was doing?

“I’ve seen Semi trying to talk to you,” Wakatoshi said, because he needed to change the subject. Hopefully that, if nothing else, would calm Kenjirou. “You should talk back. You two need to be on good terms if you’re going to work together.”

“I’ll work on it,” Kenjirou said, in that tone that meant he would do no such thing.

“And take a deep breath,” Wakatoshi advised. “If you’re starting to worry too much, you’ll start tensing up. Remembering to breathe will help.”

Kenjirou nodded, but Wakatoshi didn’t look away.

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes, but took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Again,” Wakatoshi told him, and Kenjirou did. “Feel better?”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

“I will if you mean it.”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes again, but there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He rarely smiled for anyone.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You’re a good friend.”

He patted Wakatoshi awkwardly on the shoulder as he stood up to leave the tent. It wasn’t much, but for Kenjirou, it was a pretty affectionate gesture.

Wakatoshi knew that Kenjirou and his father had been working to groom him as a potential future queen. He was friends with Kenjirou, and the idea of ruling the kingdom with him wasn’t a bad one, but he knew his mother wouldn’t let it happen.

For one thing, Kenjirou wasn’t queen material. He was much better suited to a role of advisor. The kind of social duties a queen had would make him tear his hair out.

For another, Wakatoshi would eventually marry off to someone from another kingdom. Alliances were too important to pass up, even if Kenjirou had been the perfect candidate.

It was probably for the best. He felt nothing but friendship for Kenjirou, and while it was a decent foundation to run a kingdom on, a romantic part of him wanted to love whoever he eventually mated with.

With the issue of Kenjirou at least discussed, Wakatoshi could no longer push off the things he’d been trying to avoid by focusing on his army. He was worried about his father. It was something no one had voiced, but everyone knew: there was every chance his father would already be dead by the time they got there.

He tried to assure himself that his father was capable of defending himself, that his mother had allowed him to marry into the royal family because of his capabilities, but it was hard to shake his fears. When he’d been a child, his father had seemed larger than life to him, an unconquerable hero. Now, though, he was well into manhood, and he was starting to see his father as he actually was: a man. A man with skills, certainly, and a man who could move an entire army to follow him into battle with his words alone. Wakatoshi wished he had inherited that skill rather than his mother’s temperament, but it didn’t change the fact that his father was not some god. He was just a man, and he could be killed.

It would do little good to continue dwelling on it, but he just couldn’t help it. The idea that he very well might lose his father followed him, insistent. It was the last thing he thought of before he fell asleep that night, as he listened to Goshiki snore and Kenjirou shift uncomfortably.

It was what greeted him when he woke the morning of their third day of travel. He shook it off as best he could and prepared to leave. Getting in the saddle wasn’t as bad as it had been the day before. The soreness was already fading from his muscles, but then, he’d always liked riding.

He was pleased to see Kenjirou taking his advice and trying to start a conversation with Semi, even if it didn’t last long before Kenjirou was heading back to Kawanishi. Kawanishi, though, was locked in conversation with Goshiki.

Wakatoshi had to admit that he was happy with the addition of Goshiki. He brought a kind of raw intimidation to his post as guard that Kawanishi, no matter how deadly, simply couldn’t. But he did it without unbalancing the unit they’d already established. If anything, he enhanced it. He got Kawanishi to chat much more than Wakatoshi was used to hearing from his beta guard, and it made the ride a lot more enjoyable than it could have been.

Being surrounded by his friends chatting helped keep the demons of his worry at bay. It was hard to dwell on the possible loss of his father when everyone was so alive around him. They were making good time, and would probably be able to see the Iron Wall by the time they stopped for the night.

The Iron Wall was a marvel. It had been a long time since Wakatoshi had been to visit the Wall with his father, but he remembered it as a behemoth of a structure reaching as far in both directions as his eye could see. One hundred miles long, it was built of stone, but said to be as impenetrable as iron itself. Unless something drastic had happened, Moniwa would still be the commander. Wakatoshi remembered liking him.

Sure enough, the Iron Wall appeared in the distance as the sun started to set. They had to stop now to make camp for the night. Everyone was anxious to get there now that they could see their destination, but the distance was farther than it seemed. Because the Iron Wall was so tall, at least ten stories high, it could be seen from so far away. It was hard to comprehend just how massive it was until you stood at the base of it and strained to see the top.

They wouldn’t make it before sunrise the next day if they kept riding at their current pace, especially with the danger of a horse stepping in an invisible hole in the dark and breaking an ankle. They had to make camp one more time before they were finished with their journey to the Wall.

The camp was buzzing with restless energy, not only to finish their ride but also for the coming battle. They would have to go north of the Wall to rescue the king, and the north was a place everyone had only heard stories about. All they knew was that Itachiyama was in the far north, on the coast of a frigid ocean. They had heard rumors of another kingdom, so isolated that they didn’t even fear Itachiyama, but no one knew for sure.

Everyone was curious to get a look at the far north that the Wall had defended them from their entire lives. Wakatoshi had looked out into it when he was younger, but he hadn’t gone out in it. He had to admit some level of curiosity in himself as well.

Tomorrow, they would reach the Wall. Tomorrow, he would work with his team to figure out how to get his father back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Kawashiki continues to be gay


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was an idiot and left my laptop charger at school so this was written on my mom's iPad end my life

_ “Nothing excites jaded Grandmasters more than a theoretical novelty” - Dominic Lawson _

Taichi was grateful for the addition of Goshiki to their group in more ways than one. Other than obvious of his crush, Goshiki was just nice to have around. It was a lot easier to guard Ushijima when they could switch off shifts, and the ride was a lot more pleasant with how he could chatter on for hours about nothing and everything.

Hell, he’d even started drawing Kenjirou in, and Kenjirou had some weird kind of jealousy thing mixed up with Goshiki. Their group was stronger to have him in it.

As they approached the Iron Wall, Taichi tried to gently make sure Goshiki knew how to behave. Datekou was known for their stoicism, and Taichi couldn’t really blame them. If he spent his entire life in the cold far north looking for threats coming for the kingdoms to the south, he’d probably be pretty stone faced as well.

Goshiki clearly had been taught how to behave himself, but he forgot a lot in his excitement. Taichi understood where he was coming from, though. Whether Goshiki’s excitement was contagious or he was tapping into his own, the prospect of the Iron Wall and the lands beyond was intriguing. He’d only been to the Wall once, when he travelled there with Ushijima and the king.

They could see the Wall now as they rode, looking much smaller than Taichi remembered it up close. Its stone was cast grey, and it loomed over the land, even from a distance.

It was afternoon when they reached the Wall after an entire day of looking at it. All the other soldiers peeled off to follow the Datekou members showing them to their quarters, but Taichi stayed with Ushijima. They didn’t have time to wait around now that they were here.

Semi was only a step behind them, having given instructions to his second in command. They gathered around a low, round table as a smaller man stood to address them.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly, and with such a large force,” he started. “My name is Moniwa Kaname, and I’m the captain of Datekou. Let’s all work hard together.”

Everyone nodded their heads, a little surprised. They’d heard that Datekou could be cold, but Moniwa seemed pleasant enough. Taichi hadn’t met him when he’d been up here with Ushijima the last time. He was a little short compared to the tall men who surrounded him, and his black hair was shot through with grey. He looked about in his fifties

His face was pleasant and open. He wouldn’t look like a soldier at all, if it wasn’t for the way he carried himself. If he was in his fifties, he would have been up here with Datekou for a very long time. They wouldn’t have made him captain for nothing. 

“The eagle from the citadel said that you would be bringing a strategist with you?” Moniwa asked Ushijima. 

“Yes. This is Shirabu Kenjirou,” Ushijima waved to Kenjirou. “He's the one who will be doing planning in place of Saitou-san. And this is Semi Eita. He’ll be helping Kenjirou. He has experience fighting against people like Itachiyama.” 

Both Kenjirou and Semi murmured quiet greetings. Kenjirou looked a little overwhelmed. 

“This space is free for you both to use as you wish,” Moniwa told them. “This is my student and right hand man, Futakuchi Kenjirou.” He gestured to a younger man, around his late twenties or so. He had a gleam of mischief in his eyes that seemed especially in contrast to what Taichi had expected from the Wall. “He speaks with my authority, most of the time.”

It was said like an old joke between teacher and student. Futakuchi stepped forward, grinning. He smelled of alpha, and of command. 

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, his voice bending softly around vowels. He was from the south, and he didn't sound like he lived in Seijoh. “I can blend in a bit here, so if you're having trouble finding me, look for my partner Aone Takanobu. We're usually together.”

A very tall man stepped forward to Futakuchi’s side. He could have almost any age, but based on how he and Futakuchi regarded each other, they couldn't have been too far apart. 

Aone, despite his height, clearly smelled like an omega. With that intense face and his shock of white hair, Taichi could see why he would stick out in this world of grey in the fort, built from the same stone that had given the Iron Wall its name. 

Moniwa nodded approvingly, turning back to them. 

“Ushijima-sama, I know you've been here before, but I'm sure you'd like the tour again. Things don't change much up here, or so we like to think, but I'm sure one visit didn't give you the entire picture of our Wall.”

“I would appreciate that,” Ushijima said, standing. Taichi stood with him and moved closer. Goshiki mirrored his movements as they followed Ushijima and Moniwa out. He was a fast learner, Taichi would give him credit for that.

“Shirabu-san? Semi-san?” Goshiki asked when neither moved to follow. “Aren't you coming?” 

“I'd rather get a picture of the fight we’re about to have from you, if you don't mind,” Kenjirou said, gesturing to Futakuchi. 

“If he's staying to start planning, I'm staying too,” Semi said. Moniwa shrugged, leading Ushijima, Goshiki, and Taichi to the entrance of the compound.

“As you can see, our main headquarters is here,” Moniwa started, gesturing to the fort they were leaving. It rested at the foot of the Wall. “We have a lift system inside the Wall to get to the top. It's based on falling weights, and frankly, I'm not entirely sure how it works. I could be here another forty years and still not know.”

They approached the door in the Wall. Taichi glanced over at the gate fifty feet away from where they stood.

“The Wall is mostly solid rock,” Moniwa told them. “At least fifty feet thick in most places. The only exceptions are that gate and these life channels within the Wall.”

“How many gates are there?” Goshiki asked.

“Just this one,” Moniwa answered. “There are forts like this one every ten miles along the Wall, plus two forts at either end at the peaks Jin and Soekawa. Every one of the nine Wall forts has a lift like this one.”

They stepped through the door, into a room with a grated door and an opening to a set of…

“Stairs?” Goshiki asked. Moniwa nodded. 

“The lifts aren't always safe to use,” he explained. “It gets so cold in the winter, and blizzards blow snow into the channel, that the gears will lock up and there's a danger of them breaking and...well, it's a long way down. We pretty much only use them in summer.”

“Everyone climbs the stairs every day?” Ushijima asked. 

“We take rotating shifts on the top,” Moniwa said. “You'll see when we get up there, but there's a blockhouse at the top of the Wall that can fit ten men. They're in charge of this mile stretch for a week, then they rotate out with a new group of ten.”

“You have a lot of people here,” Goshiki pointed out. “What do they do when they're not watching the Wall.”

“Different things,” Moniwa said. “You might have noticed a farm as you were riding in. As much as we can be when were covered in snow more than half the year, we try to be self sufficient. A large chunk of people who aren't watching the Wall are helping with that in the summer, and even to the winter we keep as many animals as we can, and they have to be tended to. Other than that, we almost always have repairs to be done. The cold isn't kind to buildings, although the Wall seems to be holding up just fine as far as we can tell. And while it’s probably not as impressive as your royal libraries, we do have a fair amount of records from the Wall’s history. All our captains, major events, even some records of the southern kingdoms that might not exist anywhere else anymore. Some of our people are almost permanently assigned to the records, except in times of war.”

They finally reached the top, and Taichi could see Goshiki resisting the urge to run to the edge. His enthusiasm was cute. Taichi tried to focus on what they were doing rather than Goshiki, but it was hard when Goshiki demanded attention just with his presence. 

They all walked to the edge, looking into the lands none of them save Moniwa had even stood in. It was barren, with trees cleared for miles away from the Wall so no one could sneak up. The ground was brown and dead looking. 

“It wasn't hard to see Itachiyama from here,” Moniwa told them. “Of course, now I know that was the point. They wanted to drag as many of us as they could away from the Wall.”

“There's no way we could have planned for that,” Ushijma said. 

“I know,” Moniwa agreed. “It disturbs me to see Itachiyama coming up with these kinds of schemes. We've dealt with them peacefully over the last fourteen years, and there's never been this level of strategy before.”

“Why do you think that is?” Taichi finally spoke up. This was the kind of information no one would think to give to Kenjirou, but that he would need. His own curiosity was just a bonus. 

“Personally, I think someone grew up into a brilliant strategist somehow,” Moniwa said. “Someone young with a mind like your Shirabu’s. But they wouldn't have been trained like Shirabu must have been. There's no one in Itachiyama to teach them what Shirabu and you, Ushijima-sama, must have been taught.

“I think the crown prince has reached manhood,” he tacked on as an afterthought. 

“Someone with an instinct for strategy even greater than Kenjirou’s,” Ushijima mused. “Maybe that's why they're attacking now after fourteen years of peace.” 

“Possibly,” Moniwa agreed. “Let's head back down. I'm sure you'll want to settle for the night. After all, you'll be riding out as soon as possible.”

“We will,” Ushijima agreed. “We can't waste any time here. As soon as Kenjirou and Semi are done with a plan of attack, we'll move out.”

They got back in the lift to get back to the ground. Taichi shivered a little at the proximity of the cold stone. No matter how close to summer it got, it would probably never truly warm these stones inside.

Taichi was sure he could never do what Datekou did. Sure, they seemed a lot more friendly and even joking than the stories had told him, but they still had to stay up here, isolated from the rest of the world. They were from everywhere across the kingdoms, some former criminals sent here for punishment, some who had chosen the post willingly out of some sense of honor or, in some cases, for an escape from their former lives. 

It wasn't a kind of life Taichi wanted, with its regimented ways. He liked being able to be, as Kenjirou put it, a lazy slut when he was in the citadel and not looking out for Ushijima. Here, he knew, the only mates anyone could take was another Datekou member, and children were forbidden, not that Taichi had a problem with that part. 

It could be a harsh way of life, even if it seemed like everyone they'd seen here was happy enough. Not for the first time, Taichi was grateful for his post as Ushijima’s personal guard. It was a position that allowed him a lot of luxury and freedom, especially during times of peace. 

He looked over at his companions and focused on Goshiki. 

And Goshiki. His position allowed him a closeness with Goshiki. A closeness he would pursue when all of this was said and done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: shit hits the fan (sorry AJ it's time for your son to suffer)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got my laptop back thank every god. This next set of about three or four chapters are the worst, so fair warning to everyone.

_“A good sacrifice is one that is not necessarily sound but leaves your opponent dazed and confused” - Rudolph Spielmann_

“Whoa.”

Eita looked to his side to see Kaito staring up at the Wall in awe.

“I can’t believe it’s so big,” he whispered, as if he might invite the Wall to attack him if he spoke too loudly. “How did they even build this monster?”

“Carefully,” Eita replied, at normal speaking volume. Kaito shot him a dirty look.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t impressed by this,” he said. “I know you’ve never seen it before either.”

Kaito was right. Eita had never seen the Wall, and he was impressed at its scale. Soon enough, they were within the gates of the fort at the base, and everything was moving, and Eita didn’t have time to be entranced by the Wall anymore.

“Everyone stay together,” Eita called over the noise around them, the rushing around as the entire army fit itself into the gates. “We’re gonna see where we’re bunkin’ and then you lot are gonna stick together while I go see what we’re dealin’ with.”

A sound of assent greeted him. He turned his head back and forth, looking out in the crowd. He could see men in the light green of Datekou moving among them, probably giving out instructions. Eita waited patiently until one of them made it to his company.

“We’ll be putting you in our barracks,” the man told him. He was absolutely tiny and clearly a new recruit, but he moved with grace around the taller men around him, obviously used to operating near the ground. “They’re over here. Try to keep your companies together and orderly.”

Eita thanked him and turned to Kaito.

“You make sure everyone gets settled and that I have somewhere to sleep,” he said. “Everyone! Listen to Kaito!”

Once again, a shout let him know everyone had heard and understood. Eita slid off his horse, handing the reins to Kaito. He could see Ushijima’s tall head going inside, which meant everyone else important was probably with him. He hurried to catch up.

He managed to walk into the room just as everyone else was settling down. The walls were lined with maps, and the table was low and round. This was clearly a room for a war council. A smaller man stood at an open space that was a close to a front as a round table could get to address them.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly, and with such a large force,” he started. “My name is Moniwa Kaname, and I’m the captain of Datekou. Let’s all work hard together.”

Eita nodded his head, seeing everyone else around him do the same. He didn’t doubt that Moniwa was captain of Datekou. He carried himself with the pride of a man who knew his place in the world and had long accepted it, the pride of a man for who commandership was a privilege, not a right. 

Eita would have no problem working with him.

“The eagle from the citadel said that you would be bringing a strategist with you?” Moniwa continued, addressing it as a question to Ushijima. 

“Yes. This is Shirabu Kenjirou,” Ushijima waved Shirabu forward. “He's the one who will be doing planning in place of Saitou-san. And this is Semi Eita.” Eita stood straighter at the call of his own name, stepping forward to stand at Shirabu’s side in front of Moniwa. “He’ll be helping Kenjirou. He has experience fighting against people like Itachiyama.”

Eita murmured a greeting, and heard Shirabu do the same beside him. So he did know how to be polite. 

“This space is free for you both to use as you wish,” Moniwa told them. “This is my student and right hand man, Futakuchi Kenjirou.” He gestured to a younger man, probably about thirty, with bright brown eyes and a grin. He smelled like an alpha, but he didn’t flaunt it. Eita liked him on sight. “He speaks with my authority, most of the time.”

Futakuchi looked like he was laughing at the words. He nodded to Eita and Shirabu, welcoming them. 

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, vowels much softer than they were in the north. He must have been a southerner, not that Eita had travelled enough to say from exactly where. “I can blend in a bit here, so if you're having trouble finding me, look for my partner Aone Takanobu. We're usually together.”

And now Eita was looking up for real. Aone may have been an omega, judging by his scent, but he was taller than Eita and even Futakuchi, though the two moved as a unit. They were probably together, maybe even a mated pair, though Eita couldn’t tell without talking to either of them more. He gave them a nod, and somehow, that spoke just as much as all of Futakuchi’s words. 

Moniwa spoke up again, breaking them from the exchange. 

“Ushijima-sama, I know you've been here before, but I'm sure you'd like the tour again. Things don't change much up here, or so we like to think, but I'm sure one visit didn't give you the entire picture of our Wall.”

“I would appreciate that,” Ushijima said, standing. Goshiki and Kawanishi moved with him. 

“Shirabu-san? Semi-san?” Goshiki asked when neither moved to follow. “Aren't you coming?”

“I'd rather get a picture of the fight we’re about to have from you, if you don't mind,” Shirabu shook his head, instead moving closer to Futakuchi. 

“If he's staying to start planning, I'm staying too,” Eita said. They didn’t have much time to spend, so the more he and Shirabu could get done now, the better. Moniwa shrugged, and Ushijima and the two guards left. Eita turned back to Futakuchi as Shirabu leaned in more. 

“Tell us what we’re dealing with,” he said. Futakuchi nodded, turning to the map behind him. Aone stood like a statue, watching them all and revealing nothing.

“We’re actually kind of lucky,” Futakuchi started. “A rider from the king’s company managed to get back to the Wall this morning after riding his horse to death. The king is still alive, or he was when the rider left yesterday, and he’s out of the trap they fell into.”

“Where?” Eita asked. Futakuchi pointed to a valley cradled by the mountains.

“The scout said they were in the middle of the valley, moving this way,” Futakuchi said, moving his finger along what might have been a river. “Itachiyama is about a day’s ride behind them. But their horses are tired, and Itachiyama is gaining on them fast. They need a rescue, and soon, if they’re going to get out of this one alive.”

“What are they riding towards?” Shirabu asked, pointing to where the valley seemed to pinch off, but the river clearly kept running through. Eita’s heart jumped. If that was what he thought it was…

“It’s a mountain pass,” Futakuchi told them, and Shirabu’s small gasp echoed Eita’s feelings.

“We can cut them off there,” Shirabu said, and Eita nodded furiously.

“How wide is the pass?” he asked Futakuchi.

“Narrow,” Futakuchi replied. “Only a few horses at a time can go through. It’s a good thing the king’s group is small, and that they’re a day’s ride ahead, because that’s how long it will take them to get through. If they’re lucky, they’ll all get through before any arrows can take them out. Itachiyama’s archers have some stupidly accurate aim.”

“This is perfect,” Shirabu said, and Eita felt his excitement rising at the same time as Shirabu’s. “We can hold them at the pass after we get the king through.”

“We can cover him from the pass with archers,” Eita added, speaking faster and almost slurring his words with his speed. “I have some in my company, and they’re not stupid accurate, but they’re good enough for cover. There’s gotta be more in this army that’ll work too. We can get the king through safely.”

Eita couldn’t help grinning. So this was what it was like to work with Shirabu, really work with him. They were a team, and bouncing off each other, and it was _working_. It felt like they’d finally found their rhythm.

“And after we get the king through we can form a shield wall across the pass,” Shirabu went on, and Eita felt his stomach drop as all the momentum left him. “If the pass is so narrow that only a few horses can go through at a time, we could easily have rows of shield wall guarding it. Itachiyama would never get through. They’d be at a complete disadvantage.”

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Eita asked, his voice suddenly clipped. _With anger_ , he realized, far more than just shock. He’d really thought he and Shirabu were starting to mesh.

He was a fool.

But he wouldn’t shame Shirabu in front of Futakuchi and Aone, so instead he led him out into the hall. Shirabu followed silently, face settling into a blank mask. He was annoyed.

Eita didn’t care.

“Your plan is going to get a lot of people killed,” Eita told him flatly. Shirabu tilted his chin up to look at Eita defiantly.

“What do you suggest, then?” he asked scathingly. “We just let them through? That river runs right to the Wall. Should we let them invade us again?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Eita argued. “There’s more than one solution here. We’ll already have archers stationed around the pass. Have them pick off Itachiyama one by one. It’ll be such a narrow press, they’ll be bottlenecked and they’ll drop like flies.”

“Too much room for error,” Shirabu shot back. “A lot of them could still get through and make a run past us.”

“So we work around that!” Eita snapped. “You’re smart, we can figure somethin’ out!”

“We don’t have time!” Shirabu yelled, and he really was yelling now, but so was Eita.

“If we have to take an extra hour or two to save hundreds of lives, we should do that!” Eita yelled back, resisting the urge to get in Shirabu’s face. That would only make both of them angrier. “We’re supposed to be a team, dammit!”

“No we’re not!” Shirabu screamed. “I’m the one planning this! You’re advising me! Advice noted and rejected!”

“Excuse me?” Eita was suddenly stiff with cold fury.

“Here!” Shirabu snapped, still burning. He flung a scroll at Eita’s face. Eita unfurled it slowly and read it, read the words of the queen that made it clear who was in charge, and who should be ignored. He looked up from the letter to Shirabu, with his red cheeks and his heaving chest.

Somehow, it made how well they’d gotten along for that brief moment even more painful.

“Fine,” Eita said, shoving the letter back into Shirabu’s hands. He might be angry at Shirabu, but right now, he _hated_ the queen.

“Where are you going?” Shirabu asked.

“To tell my company about the death sentence you’ve just given them,” Eita said, loud enough that his voice would carry without having to turn around to look at Shirabu again. “If they’re all about to die, they deserve to hear it from me.”

“You’ll be back by Ushijima-sama,” Shirabu called after him, voice suddenly surprisingly pleading. “You won’t be on the front lines.”

“Really?” Eita asked, and he laughed despite himself. Shirabu just didn’t get it. “You don’t get to play that game. You can’t pretend I’m a number, because you know me. You can’t pretend Ushijima-sama is a number, because you know him. And you don’t get to pretend everyone who isn’t us is a number, either, just because you don’t know them personally. They’re no better than me, and they deserve to be treated like humans if you’re going to send them off to be slaughtered.”

He kept walking, about to have one of the worst conversations of his life.

“Semi, wait!” Shirabu called after him, but Eita ignored him. If Shirabu really wanted to be in charge, he could damn well figure this out on his own.

Eita had to go tell his company to make their final goodbyes, because they probably wouldn’t be surviving the attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Shirabu has to be the one left behind


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirabu and his regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short introspective chapter, which is rare because Shirabu really sucks at introspection

_“Strategy requires thought, tactics require observation” – Max Euwe_

Kenjirou watched the army ride out of the gates of the fort. He’d already made his goodbyes to everyone he needed to. He didn’t really want to be down among everyone now.

He’d come up here, to the highest point he could find, because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling, but it wasn’t good.

 _Save this kingdom at any cost. I don’t care what the price is_.

That was what the queen had told him to do. He was protecting the kingdom from another tragedy like fourteen years ago. He was doing the right thing.

Wasn’t he?

Semi had seemed so sure he was making the wrong choice. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do, though. Semi’s plan might have saved more lives during the battle, but if Itachiyama got past the Wall and down to the citadel, would that really matter?

He nearly jumped off the tower in shock at a presence suddenly next to him. Aone may have been big, but he was silent.

“I made the right choice,” Kenjirou said, because he’d never heard Aone speak. Maybe he was mute. “I have to protect the kingdom.”

Aone didn’t say anything.

“I’m working blind here,” Kenjirou admitted, if only because he didn’t think Aone would tell anyone about it. “I know what I’m doing in theory, but this is real now.”

Aone still didn’t say anything, but he did smack Kenjirou on the back so hard he pitched forward a step. It was strangely comforting.

“Don’t tell me you’re having regrets already,” a voice came from behind them. Kenjirou turned to see Futakuchi climbing to their position. “They haven’t even seen battle yet.”

“I’m not having regrets.” He wasn’t sure if that was a lie. “I made the right choice. The queen told me to protect the kingdom at any cost. I’m doing what she told me to do.”

“But if you can do it for a lower cost, isn’t that better?” Futakuchi asked. He held up his hand when Kenjirou opened his mouth to protest. “I’m not saying you made the wrong choice. I’m just saying that I thought you were supposed to be working with that Semi Eita guy. He left pretty quickly. Don’t you think you should have listened to him?”

“He’s just here to advise me,” Kenjirou argued, though it felt flat even to him.

“And shouldn’t that mean you listen to him?” Futakuchi pressed. “Look, whether you regret what happened or not, that’s something to think about in the future. You don’t have to do this alone. And theoretical knowledge can only take you so far. Real strategy is built by being a part of battles. Trust me on that one.”

“You heard that?”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Futakuchi promised.

“Why are you still here, anyway?” Kenjirou asked. “I thought everyone went with Ushijima-sama.”

“Someone has to stay here to guard the fort,” Futakuchi shrugged.

“We’re the last line of defense,” Aone spoke up, making Kenjirou jump. Somehow, Futakuchi looked even more amused.

“So. When they get back, you might owe Semi an apology,” Futakuchi advised. “In the meantime, don’t have regrets yet. You haven’t even seen the outcome of your decision. What’s done is done. You can decide how you feel about it when you know what’s going to happen.”

“Thank you,” Kenjirou said. They had been surprisingly comforting.

He looked out, where he could see the army reaching the gate through the Wall. Getting through would take them the rest of the day. It was narrow to prevent it from being breached.

Somewhere down there, his closest friends in the world were riding off into battle. Somewhere down there, Semi was as well. Kenjirou still hadn’t figured out what he thought about Semi. On the one hand, they fought a lot, but on the other, that energy between them for the brief period they’d been working together was electric.

If he was ever going to have a partner in building strategy, he could probably do a lot worse than that.

“I hate being the ones left behind,” Futakuchi complained. “The waiting is the worst. It’s so much easier to be down there. You fight, and you either win or you die. There’s no waiting around to hear whether everyone you care about is alive or not.”

Kenjirou couldn’t have agreed more with him.

“Moniwa will come back,” Aone promised. His voice was low, but pleasant. He seemed to only speak when he had something important to say.

“He better,” Futakuchi said. “I’m not ready to take over with him. It’s bad enough that I’m the one who has to watch the fort when he leaves.”

“I understand why you had to stay, but why you?” Kenjirou asked Aone. “Is it because you’re an omega?”

Aone shook his head.

“We don’t like being separated,” Futakuchi explained. “If I’m staying, usually he’s staying.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re mated, and splitting up is pretty painful.”

Futakuchi said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Kenjirou hadn’t even realized they were mated. Now that he knew, it was obvious, the two of them clearly acting like a mated couple.

“Not very observant, are you?” Futakuchi asked, and Kenjirou bristled. “Relax. I’m not calling you dumb. Just unobservant. Most people notice as soon as they talk to us, we’re not subtle about it.”

Kenjirou just nodded. He turned to leave the tower. He’d had enough of watching the slow stream of horses through the Wall.

“There’s a library in here,” Futakuchi called after him. “Ushijima-sama said you like books. Keep your mind off this as much as you can. Brooding won’t help anyone.”

Kenjirou murmured his thanks, off to find the library. He would take his mind off this coming battle, and when they all got back, he would decide if he needed to apologize to Semi.

For now, he didn’t want to think about any of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: the battle. Watch for tags


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about this. I'm crying too. Tags have been updated.

_“In blitz, the knight is stronger than the bishop.” – Vlasimil Hort_

Eita had no idea what he was supposed to say. He’d led his people through tough situations before, yes, but never like this.

They’d never been in such a tight spot.

A lot of them were going to die. There was no getting around that. They would be saying goodbye to friends and lovers soon.

The barracks were filled with laughter, which just made Eita feel worse. He saw Akito smiling quietly next to Hideyoshi, Yosuke dancing around, Kaito laughing with Mari in his lap. Part of Eita wanted to turn back around and try to reason with Shirabu again, but he knew how pointless that was. He’d seen how Shirabu set his jaw in determination, and he’d seen that letter from the queen.

_I’ve told Shirabu to save the kingdom at any cost. I know he understands the consequences of not following this directive._

He didn’t want to think about how the queen had twisted Shirabu, and he knew he wasn’t going to win this argument.

And because of that, his company was going to lose a lot.

Still, he wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t have the skill to argue Shirabu down, he would have to face that now. He would tell his company now, and give them enough time to make their goodbyes.

Without him speaking, the room slowly quieted down. Something in his face must have shown, because everyone was looking at him now. The tension in the room was as sharp as a knife.

“We’ve had news from north of the Wall,” he started, because he wasn’t sure where else to start. “The king is riding through a valley about a day’s ride ahead of Itachiyama.”

Whispers of ‘the king is alive’ spread through the room. It seemed almost cruel to give them all hope now.

“With luck, he’ll have just enough time to get through a pass at the end of the valley before Itachiyama catches him, but he won’t have more time after that,” Eita said. “We have to hold them at the pass.”

The silence was the worst sound Eita had ever heard.

“Shield wall?” Kaito finally spoke up, because if anyone had ever stood with Eita, it was Kaito.

“Shield wall,” Eita agreed, and murmurs spread. Everyone knew what that meant. “We ride out at dawn. The king doesn’t have much time.”

“Eita?” Akito spoke up, voice small. “Is this your plan?”

_Are you the one sentencing us to death?_

“No,” Eita said, watching the relief in their faces. He couldn’t throw Shirabu’s name out, though, not when the queen had manipulated him to hell and back. “It’s the Ice Queen’s plan.”

Angry hissing noises spread through the room. A lot of the company was from the village just like Eita and Kaito and Mari. There was no love of the queen to be found with them.

“Do whatever you have to do before we leave,” Eita told them. “Whatever happens, know I won’t be followin’ you into battle. I’ll be leadin’ you, just like I always do, and I’ll fight with you until the end.”

A cheer went up, the cheer of people who knew their deaths were likely and wanted to shout their defiance at the gods. Eita sat next to Kaito and Mari, bone weary.

“This is from Shirabu, isn’t it?” Kaito asked. Eita nodded.

“You should’ve seen this letter he had from the queen,” Eita said. “She’s askin’ him to defend the kingdom no matter what the cost is. I don’t think he sees another choice.”

“Lad’s seventeen. He hasn’t learned yet,” Kaito said. He pulled out his dagger, one that he’d carried since they were boys. The carved dancer on the hilt was as familiar as Kaito’s hand. “She’s always protected us. She’ll look after us now. After all, we’re about to start a family. She wouldn’t go abandonin’ us now.”

“That’s true,” Eita agreed. That dagger, won in a contest of strength when they were boys, was Kaito’s good luck charm. Every time he carried it, he won.

Eita hoped it worked this time, too.

Riding out the next morning was one of the worst experiences in Eita’s life. It took them the entire day just to pass through the narrow opening in the Wall, and then, they were in the wild lands of the north. The first person through had been a messenger with instructions to ride like the wind until he reached the king to let him know help was on the way.

The company was more silent than Eita had ever heard them before, somber and tense. They were riding out for what was about to be a fight for their lives.

It was a far too short ride for what they would meet at the end of it. They were approaching the pass by sunset.

Tomorrow, the king would be there, and so would Itachiyama.

Eita slept fitfully, hearing his company make their final goodbyes in whatever way they chose, whether it be a bed partner for one final night or spending time by a fire with an old friend.

And then tomorrow was upon them. In the grey light before dawn, the rider they’d sent returned, telling them the king would be there within the hour. They set themselves up by the pass, preparing for whatever was about to come through. It really was narrow, the perfect place for a bottleneck. Eita hoped the king was riding fast. He wouldn’t have much time to get through.

The small advance guard was closing fast, with no sign of Itachiyama behind them. Maybe fifty mounted soldiers were left, riding with everything they had towards the promise of safety. They reached the pass just as the sun was peaking over the horizon line. The sky exploded blood red.

Most of the advance guard was injured, and the rest were exhausted. They’d been riding for their lives for days with an enemy snapping at their heels. They wouldn’t be any more use in the coming fight.

A few scaled the walls of the pass to watch for the incoming Itachiyama force. None was seen, but their campfires were obvious as the sun went down.

They didn’t care who saw them. They must have had a force big enough to not worry about such things.

Tomorrow was the day. Tomorrow, they fought.

Once again, no one really slept, instead preparing however they wanted. In the morning, everyone helped everyone else get strapped into their armor. Eita tucked his long ponytail into his armor and slid his helmet into place. Kaito beside him did the same, buckling the dagger to his belt.

Everyone picked up their shields and prepared to stand across the pass. Eita stood at the right side of the shield wall, the least protected side with no one’s shield on his right to cover him. It was his job to keep the line strong. He heard the rustling behind him as more layers of shield walls settled in.

“I’ve got your cover,” he told Kaito, standing next to him, the right half of his body covered by Eita’s shield. Mari was on Kaito’s other side, his shield covering her. And so on down the line.

“Lead me anywhere. I’ll follow you,” Kaito replied, and that was the last they spoke before Itachiyama started filtering into their sight.

And kept coming. And kept coming.

Eita’s heart sank. There were too many. The first few lines would be gone.

Itachiyama formed up, though much looser than the tight packed lines of Shiratorizawa. They were used to guerilla fighting, Eita remembered. Not line fighting.

And then they were charging, and Eita braced himself for the big push. He held his shield and spear ready. And that was the last he thought.

The push was hard, but not enough to knock him off his feet. He steadied the line, thrusting forward with his spear and feeling it sink into soft flesh. He pulled it back. He heard the gurgling death cry of the enemy he’d killed.

He thrust again.

And again.

On and on.

_Shield. Hold. Thrust._

His life was sweat and blood, the motion of the thrust, and nothing more. He could feel the bodies that began to pile at his feet, could smell the blood and piss, could hear the shouts and cries of dying men and women.

On and on.

_Shield. Hold. Thrust._

The wall of bodies in front of him was so tall that it acted as a shield for his right side. The blood under his feet was slick on the stone. Men bellowed. Women screamed. People died.

On and on.

Then, the worst. The middle of the line began to bow under the pressure. Eita shouted for strength, but it was too late.

The line broke, and there was chaos. Eita pressed in. If enemies were among them, they would be surrounded, speared, slaughtered. The wall of bodies next to him was now over his head, and he was invisible until someone charged through only to meet his spear.

Now the bodies he stepped over were his own company, as the press was too much. People were dying.

On and on.

The best they could hope for now was to regroup the shield walls, but there was no hope of that. There was too much chaos, too many enemies, too many dead friends. Eita just thrust, and when his shield was ripped out of his hand, hit with the buckle of his shield. Soon enough, another spear was by his feet. He picked it up. The wood was soaked in blood.

He started again, thrusting, hot and bloody and desperate.

On and on.

He was not a man anymore, but a machine. _Shield. Hold. Thrust._ He felt nothing when he hit an artery and blood sprayed in his face. He felt nothing when a spear from a dying man grazed his leg. He felt nothing when people slammed into his shield, again and again and again, bruising and destroying.

He was upright because of battle haze only. He was alive and fighting because of adrenaline. It didn’t matter that it was making his hand shake. The enemy was so close, he didn’t have to aim. Only thrust.

On and on.

He was so tired now. His arm felt heavy with the shield, his spear arm like a leaf. Still, he stabbed it forward into enemy flesh all the same. They bled and died at his feet. He couldn’t feel anger, or hatred, or even the heat anymore.

Everything was numb. He thrusted, and felt nothing. He killed, and felt nothing.

Finally, blessedly, the call they had all been waiting for arose.

 _Retreat_.

The horns calling the enemy home were like bells from the heavens. They were salvation, and safety.

They were victory.

And once the enemy was gone from their midst, once the adrenaline had left him, he felt all the pain he was spared during the fight. His right leg was cut much deeper than he realized. That would have to be stitched, and watched for infection. His left side was battered from all the attacks on his shield that had pressed it again and again into him. He had cuts covering his right arm that he hadn’t even noticed.

He sank to his knees, unable to stand on his right leg anymore. He lowered his shield and spear to the ground. His arms wouldn’t support them anymore.

The sky was still light. Had it not even been a day? It had been a thousand years.

“Semi-san?”

Eita looked up into the dark and concerned eyes of Goshiki.

“Are you still alive?”

_I don’t know._

“They took out the entire front line, how did you survive?”

_I don’t know._

“We need to get you to a medic,” Goshiki insisted, pulling him to his feet. He was surprisingly gentle. “I’ll come back and check if anyone else survived after this.”

_Don’t make me look._

He didn’t truly come back to himself until they were well off the battlefield. It was only then that Goshiki’s words set in.

His cry of anguish could be heard across that bloodstained mountain pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: fall out


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. Short chapter because there's a limit to how much of this I can take and we have reached it.

_“There is no remorse like the remorse of chess.” – H.G. Wells_

Kenjirou hovered close to a window that faced the Wall. The Datekou members in the library had been kind enough to let him take a book with him. He wasn’t reading it much, though.

Based on how far the pass was from the Wall, and how long the army had been gone – nearly two weeks now, they should be returning today. Kenjirou couldn’t sit still, but he was doing his best not to look like he was fidgeting. No one else in the fort was restless. He felt self-conscious about how antsy he was.

Finally, _finally,_ the horns signaling for the gate to open sounded. Kenjirou jumped to his feet, racing for the front of the fort. It would take a long time for the entire army to get back across the Wall, but surely the king and Ushijima would be at the front. If they needed medical attention, they would be first priority. Taichi and Goshiki, who Kenjirou had worried about more than he cared to admit, would be with them as well.

And Semi.

Kenjirou still hadn’t decided what to do about Semi. He was sure he owed Semi an apology at this point, but he wasn’t sure if he would give it to him. He wouldn’t know for sure until everyone was back and he found out what had happened out there.

Sure enough, when the army started filtering through the gates and into the fort, the king and Ushijima were riding in the lead. Kenjirou felt his shoulders drop in relief. There were Taichi and Goshiki behind him, looking battered but very much alive. As the soldiers came through more and more, Kenjirou even started to feel lucky. They hadn’t lost as many as he’d prepared himself to lose.

He had to have made the right choice.

And then came Semi, looking so much the worse for wear, much more bandaged than even Taichi and Goshiki. But still, he was alive. Kenjirou had more time to decide what to do.

The king dismounted in front of Futakuchi, who’d come out to meet everyone the same as Kenjirou.

“Some of us need medical attention,” he told Futakuchi. “We’ll be taking them to the infirmary.”

“Of course,” Futakuchi nodded. He made a beeline for Moniwa, probably glad to hand off the reins of command for a little while longer.

Kenjirou could empathize.

“Semi-san, wait, you should go to the infirmary too,” in Goshiki’s voice was all the warning Kenjirou got before Semi was in his face, grabbing his arm and steering him backwards. Kenjirou was too surprised to even yelp, eyes going wide and following where Semi was directing him.

“I need to talk to you,” Semi said, and his voice was strangely blank. So were his eyes.

He was scary.

Kenjirou couldn’t force words out, not even when his back was slammed against the wall of the fort. He couldn’t look away from Semi’s eyes.

“Hold out your hands,” Semi commanded, and Kenjirou obeyed without a thought. Semi finally let go of his arm to draw a bag off his belt.

“What are you…?” Kenjirou finally spoke up.

"Akito," Semi cut him off softly, dropping a wooden tag into Kenjirou’s cupped hands. "Kisumi." Another. Kenjirou felt his gut clench in horror at the blood splattered on the tag. "Mari. Yosuke. Hideyoshi." Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Semi lifted his hand again, tears in his eyes. "Kaito."

He let the last tag drop. Kenjirou couldn't have found a word in his mind to save his own life.

"All you had to do was listen to me," Semi said. "You're not the only one who knows how to win a war. They're dead because you couldn't think for one second that someone else might know better than you. You were so caught up in whatever orders the queen gave you that you couldn’t see the big picture."

He was crying in earnest now, but he turned on his heel before Kenjirou could get a good look. Kenjirou sank to his knees as he left, the names of the dead bouncing around in his head. Despite the warm sun, he felt cold. The pine tags in his hand, each with a dead soldier’s name, felt heavy as lead in his hands, but he couldn’t drop them.

The tags were worn at the belt, just in case someone was disfigured so badly they couldn’t be identified. The blood on them meant just one thing, based on where they were worn…

Spears were thrust underhanded…

Meant to pierce armor and soft stomachs…

Kenjirou wanted to throw up, but he couldn’t. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. He wanted to run, but where would he run to?

All he could do was sit there on his knees, clutching those last remnants of soldiers he’d killed. He was useless.

When he finally got to his feet, there was only one place he could go. He walked listlessly, not really hearing anything of what was going on around him. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but after a blur of time, he was standing before the king.

“The queen sent a letter for you, highness,” he said mechanically, removing the scroll from his shirt and passing it over before the king had a chance to ask him what he was doing there. The king took it, reading over it quickly, his brow furrowing.

He looked like Ushijima when he did that.

“Well, obviously I can’t agree to this,” the king told him. “I’m sure you already know that. I want you to work with Eita.”

“With all respect, highness, I don’t think I should be here at all,” Kenjirou said quietly. “I don’t think I have the experience to do this. I don’t think I’ve made choices I can be proud of. You should make Semi-san the lead strategist. I don’t belong here.”

He sank into a bow.

“You shouldn’t judge yourself so harshly,” the king told him. “That decision you made at the pass? I would’ve made the same in your position. And it worked. We held them off with the least loss of life that could be expected. The first and second lines were lost, but a good majority made it out alive.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” Kenjirou whispered. He had risen from his bow, but he couldn’t lift his head.

“It was only your second battle,” the king reasoned with him. “Everyone makes mistakes at first. And you didn’t make a mistake. Your call was a solid one based on the situation.”

“If I had listened to Semi-san, we wouldn’t have lost so many.”

“There’s no telling that for sure,” the king said. “And there’s no guarantee that whatever his plan was would have worked. I would have preferred for you two to work together. You balance each other out in style. However, I maintain that you made a mostly correct choice. We need you here. We need your skill.”

Kenjirou nodded.

“I won’t force you to stay if that’s not what you want,” the king continued. “But you have a mind for this, and frankly, we need a strategist. Eita is good, my son is good, and I’m good, but you’re better.”

Kenjirou nodded again.

“I’ll stay if you want me,” he said. The king sighed, relieved.

“Get some rest,” the king advised. “You’ll feel better in the morning. We have a little time. They retreated, and we killed a lot more of them than they did of us. They need time to regroup, and when they do, we’ll be ready for them. For now, you should rest and spend time with your friends.”

Kenjirou nodded mechanically, turning to leave. He wouldn’t be sleeping, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be around anyone. Not even Taichi. He wasn’t sure what he was doing with his face, but he was sure it wasn’t blank.

_They’re dead because you couldn’t think for one second that someone else might know better than you._

How many were dead because of him? How many had he killed?

He felt sick. The tags were in his pocket now, banging against his leg with every step. _They died because of you_ , they seemed to say with every swing.

And before he could tell where he was, there were the bright lanterns and white sheets of the infirmary. There was Taichi, with Goshiki leaning against his shoulder.

And Kenjirou was wrong. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to be with them.

Taichi looked up as he walked over to them.

“Kenjirou?”

“I fucked up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Kawanishi's POV


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The healing begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I've brought psychology major Kawanishi into an au where psychology as a field doesn't exist. HCs are strong, man. Enjoy the growing Kawashiki and the Kawashira friendship.

_“Adequate compensation for a sacrifice is having a sound combination leading to a winning position.” – Bruce A. Moon_

Taichi only had so much room in his head, and it was all being used up. He could only try to keep so many people safe, and he was being overwhelmed.

So he pulled Goshiki away from where the younger boy was trying to go after Semi, stalking towards Kenjirou. Taichi didn’t have time to worry about his best friend right now. Kenjirou would be fine, and Taichi wanted to get both him and Goshiki to the infirmary.

Goshiki was too quiet as they went. Not for the first time, Taichi remembered that he was only sixteen. That had been his first battle.

It had also been Taichi’s. He’d been trained, of course, in defending Ushijima no matter what. He’d practiced fending off multiple attackers at once, but it was nothing like the real thing. Practice swords couldn’t teach him about people dying.

He and Goshiki weren’t really that badly hurt, just a few cuts and things to patch up, but Taichi wasn’t sure what else to do. He could do this much, at least.

Goshiki followed him pliantly, sitting when told and letting Taichi turn his face this way and that, bandaging any open wounds he could see. Finally, there was no more fussing he could do, and his own wounds were taken care of as well. He sat heavily beside Goshiki on the bed. They were tucked in a corner away from the activity around the more injured soldiers.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Goshiki just huffed a breath, not really an answer.

“I didn’t know it would be like that.”

_I didn’t either._

Somehow, though, it felt cheap to tell Goshiki that. He was supposed to be Goshiki’s beloved senpai. He was supposed to protect him.

_He is surrounded by soldiers, and spears, and blood. None can touch his prince. He will not allow it._

_He is mounted on his horse, his longer sword the perfect thing for reaching the people running around below him. They all die at his hand, and none may touch Ushijima._

_And then his horse is stumbling over one of the many bodies he littered on the ground. He jumps before he can be thrown, and he is no longer above the men who would harm his prince._

_Suddenly his sword seems too long. Everything is chaos, and everything is death._

_He doesn’t see the man running for him until it is too late._

_A blur of black and maroon, and the man is dead. He sees dark eyes and straight bangs. He doesn’t understand what is shouted at him, but he remounts his horse all the same._

“You saved my life,” Taichi said instead.

“You would’ve done the same for me,” Goshiki replied.

“That doesn’t make it matter less to me.”

“How many do you think are dead?”

Taichi wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that, so instead, he wrapped his arm around Goshiki’s shoulders and pulled him in close. Goshiki let his head rest on Taichi’s shoulder.

“More of them than of us,” Taichi finally decided on.

“I didn’t expect them to be like that.”

“Like what?”

“They were just people.”

That was the worst part. Realizing that your enemy was human, the same as you. Realizing that you were killing people who were only different from you because of which side of the Wall they lived on.

“I know,” Taichi said, because there was no use arguing that. “But they attacked us first. They were going to kill our king. If we don’t fight back, they’ll kill us first. We have to fight them like this to convince them to leave us alone.”

Goshiki curled up tighter into his side. He was still quiet, but that silence didn’t feel like shame anymore. He would be alright soon enough.

He wasn’t sure he could say the same thing about Kenjirou walking up to him. He’d never seen that look on his best friend’s face before, but it definitely wasn’t anything good.

“Kenjirou?” Tentative, reaching. Trying to approach gently, like he would if he was trying not to scare off a wounded animal.

“I fucked up.”

He sounded so much worse than Goshiki had. Goshiki was in shock, but Kenjirou was…something else.

“What do you mean?” Taichi asked carefully. In answer, Kenjirou reached into his pocket to draw out wooden tags, some splattered with blood. He held them out in front of Taichi.

“They’re dead because of me.”

Final. His voice was so final. There was no argument in his tone because he didn’t see it any other way. In his eyes, he might as well have killed those soldiers himself.

“Don’t say that,” Taichi said firmly. “They’re not dead because of you.”

“I sent them into that pass,” Kenjirou said. Monotone. He still held the tags out. “I planned the shield wall. Everyone who’s dead is dead because I made that plan. Semi was right.”

“Stop.”

Even Taichi was surprised by how hard his voice was, but it was enough to make Kenjirou close his mouth. Taichi reached up to take the tags from Kenjirou’s hands, having to work harder than he expected to break his white-knuckled grip.

He didn’t think Kenjirou even knew how hard he was gripping them.

Taichi set the tags on a table. He turned back to Kenjirou, using a hand on his wrist to guide him into sitting on the open side that Goshiki didn’t occupy. He’d seen his best friend sad before, and angry, and frustrated, but he’d never seen this.

He’d never seen Kenjirou look so small.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, and Kenjirou looked like he wanted to argue. “Sh. Let me finish. It’s not your fault those soldiers are dead.”

“Who else could it be?” Kenjirou asked. He wouldn’t look away from his hands folded in his lap.

“No one,” Taichi said. “It’s no one’s fault. Maybe it’s the fault of Itachiyama for trying to attack us, or maybe it’s our fault for building the Wall in the first place, or maybe it’s the gods’ fault for making humans fight each other. We can go around in circles all day trying to assign blame, and all we’ll do is make ourselves dizzy. They died because this is war. War doesn’t have to make sense because it’s not sensible to kill and be killed, but we do it anyway. So no, it wasn’t your fault, or anybody else’s.”

“Less would have died if I’d listened to Semi,” Kenjirou said.

“Maybe,” Taichi conceded. “Maybe not. Maybe a plan that didn’t involve stopping them dead at the pass would have let Itachiyama break through our lines and kill a lot more of us than what we lost here. We’ll never know, and it’ll only hurt to keep trying to guess what would have happened if we’d done it differently.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” Kenjirou asked. The desperation was heartbreaking. “We’re not nice to each other.”

Taichi unwrapped his arm from around Goshiki’s shoulders to pull Kenjirou into a hug. Kenjirou only startled back for a minute.

“We’re not nice to each other,” he said again. “You’re not nice to me. We don’t hug. That’s not how this works.”

“I’m not going to pile on when you’re already beating yourself up,” Taichi said into Kenjirou’s shoulder. “I know you’re just here because you think I’ll hit you while you’re down. You don’t deserve that.”

“Yes I do!” It would be so much better if he would just cry and get it out, but Kenjirou was too proud for that. “They’re dead because of me!”

“That’s not true,” Taichi said. “And saying it over and over won’t make it true. If you have regrets, do it better next time, but you didn’t do it wrong this time. And you won’t make me say anyone died because of you.”

“Fuck you!”

He still wasn’t crying, just shaking in Taichi’s arms. Goshiki reached across Taichi’s chest to grab a hold of Kenjirou’s wrist.

“Shirabu-san,” he said quietly. “We lost one hundred seventy-two men.”

Taichi heard Kenjirou’s sharp intake of breath.

“When I was training for the castle guard, we learned about some famous battles in history,” Goshiki went on. “Almost every time a smaller force tries to hold a bigger force at a mountain pass, they get wiped out completely. We only have to mourn one hundred seventy-two out of a few thousand. I think that counts as a success.”

“I know this isn’t news to you,” Taichi said softly, tightening his grip on Kenjirou. “I know you’ve studied all those old battles more than Goshiki has. I know you know that we lost way fewer than we could have.”

“They’re not numbers. They’re people,” Kenjirou whispered.

“Glad to know you’re finally listening to Semi-san,” Taichi said. “He knows what he’s talking about. But so do you. You’re smart, and this battle you’re so upset about? It was a win for us. Remember the names of the dead if you need to, but stop carrying around those tags to punish yourself.”

“I told the king I didn’t think I was cut out for this.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he would have made the same choice in my place, and that he needed a strategist.”

“We need you here,” Goshiki said. “I was only able to protect Ushijima-sama because the shield line didn’t let through enough soldiers to overwhelm us. Kawanishi-senpai and I were able to fight them off because of your plan.”

“He’s right,” Taichi agreed. “If the king agrees you were right, and we agree you were right, it’s kind of hard to keep saying you made the wrong choice.”

“Semi thinks I made the wrong choice.”

“Semi lost a lot and needs someone to blame,” Taichi said. “Work with him next time if that’s what you regret so much. But stop expecting someone else to yell at you because you think you deserve it.”

Kenjirou still hadn’t pulled out of the hug, nor had he shaken Goshiki’s hand off his wrist. It wasn’t much like him, but then again, he was still an omega. Even with his prickly personality, he would be comforted by touch. And right now, it felt like he needed to be held.

Taichi wasn’t sure how long they sat there. He only knew it was long enough for Goshiki to fall asleep, leaning into his back and his grip on Kenjirou’s wrist going slack. It was long enough for Kenjirou to stop trembling. And it was long enough for Taichi to stop feeling so helpless.

When Kenjirou finally pulled back, his eyes were still wide with shock and horror.

“What do I do now?” he asked. Taichi didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to the tags.

“Apologize to anyone you think needs it,” Taichi said, though they both knew who he meant. “Try to do it better next time. That’s all you can do.”

He leaned forward to press his forehead to Kenjirou’s in a gesture that was reserved for close friends. Unusual between the two of them, reserved only for comfort, it was still to be expected from friends as close as they were. Kenjirou took in a deep breath through his nose, and Taichi did the same, trying to calm each other with their scents.

Kenjirou’s vanilla scent was the sweetest thing about him. He’d never be a submissive omega, and that was why they were best friends. It was no fun if it wasn’t a challenge.

“How bad did I fuck up if you’re being this nice to me?” Kenjirou asked.

“You keep expecting me to beat you up, but I won’t,” Taichi replied. He felt Goshiki stirring on his back, probably roused by the movement of his lungs. “You should get some sleep.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“I’ll ask them to drug you,” Taichi threatened. “You need to sleep. You won’t be any use to us dead on your feet. You have to let yourself rest.”

Kenjirou looked like he didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Taichi carefully arranged a groggy Goshiki in a horizontal position. Then he laid down himself, pulling Kenjirou with him. He felt Goshiki’s breath against the back of his neck, already asleep. It was cramped, the three of them on a single bed, but Taichi wouldn’t leave Kenjirou alone now.

And they slept, and forgot, at least for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Semi


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semi has to mourn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter because there is a limit to how much pain I can inflict and we are reaching it. Enjoy some UshiSemi friendship

_“Some part of a mistake is always correct” - Savielly Tartakover_

Eita sat above the line of the wall around the fort, looking out to the south. He absently fingered the design on the hilt of the dagger in his hands, feeling the curves of the dancer.

“May I sit with you?” a voice asked. Eita turned to see Ushijima standing before him. He made a “suit yourself” motion with his shoulders, and Ushijima sat on the floor next to him. They both leaned against the wall, looking to the south.

Eita had picked the spot because he wanted to be left alone to mourn, but Ushijima wasn’t exactly bothering him. He was quiet, and he wasn’t exhausting to be around. Eita didn’t mind sitting next to him.

“Where are your guards?” Eita asked. “Didn’t think they’d let you wander around alone.”

“They’re healing,” Ushijima replied. “They deserve a few hours to themselves where they don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine for a while.”

Eita made a noise of acknowledgement, and they fell silent. There were distant sounds of hustle and bustle and people talking, but they could barely reach up to where the two alphas sat.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Ushijima spoke up quietly. There was no pity in his voice, but it didn’t sound like an empty consolation either. “I know many of the first and second lines were your friends.”

Eita didn’t reply, and he didn’t have to. Ushijima hadn’t said it expecting a response.

Instead they sat in silence again, and it was nice. Ushijima said what he meant, and that was nice after so long spent among nobles with their silver tongues. He was too tired and sad to deal with bullshit right now.

“You know, Kaito would’ve kicked my ass if he could see me moping right now,” Eita said. Ushijima didn’t reply, just looked at him. “He never liked mourning for the dead. He was all about celebrating their lives.”

“Did he lose many people during his life?”

“Both his parents in the plague,” Eita told him. “He and his sister lived with my family for years before we both joined the army.”

“The bond shared by childhood friends,” Ushijima said, nodding like that was the final judgement to be passed here.

“I’m not sure how to celebrate his life, though,” Eita admitted. “We’re still at war. It’s hard to feel like any of them died for something when we’re still fighting.”

“They bought us a lot of time,” Ushijima offered. “They put us in a winning position. I’d say the best way to honor them is to take advantage of that.”

“You would say that,” Eita chuckled softly, but he had to admit that Ushijima had a point. The best way to make it so Kaito and Mari and everyone else hadn’t died for nothing was to win the war for them.

“Do you blame Kenjirou?” Ushijima asked. Eita blew his bangs out of his eyes. Now there was a question he didn’t have an answer to.

“It was his plan,” Eita said. “I agree it was a fair call to make, but that doesn’t mean I like the result. And I still think we could’ve done it without the shield wall, not that he listened to me.”

Ushijima nodded.

“I don’t think he’ll do that again,” Ushijima said. “We’ve been classmates for a long time, and friends even longer, and I’ve never seen him make the same mistake twice.”

“He thinks this was a mistake?”

“He thinks not working with you was a mistake,” Ushijima clarified. “He blames himself for every death.”

“Maybe that’s good for him,” Eita muttered. He didn’t particularly care if Ushijima thought he was being too rude.

“Maybe it is,” Ushijima agreed. “He’s learned from it, if nothing else. You haven’t seen him since you got back, have you?”

“No.”

“I thought so,” Ushijima nodded again. “He’s working up to speaking to you again. Most likely, he’ll apologize or do something else he has to swallow his pride for.”

“He’s going to apologize?” Eita hadn’t thought Shirabu had it in him.

“Probably,” Ushijima said. “I’m not asking you to forgive him if you don’t want to. All I ask is that you hear him out.”

“How long have you two known each other?” Eita asked in lieu of giving a real answer.

“He started joining me in my lessons when he was six and I was ten, but we became friends when his father brought him to the castle after his mother died.”

“Plague?”

“Yes.”

Somehow, Eita felt like he understood Shirabu a little better. It didn’t mean he felt any warmer toward him, so he fell silent. Ushijima did too, and for a long time, so long that Eita’s legs started to go numb from the cold stone, they said nothing.

Finally, Ushijima stood, stretching out his arms.

“I should get back,” he said. “I need to talk to my father.”

Eita waved half-heartedly after him. Once again, he was left alone with his thoughts. It was why he had come up here in the first place, but now that he had it, he wasn’t so sure he wanted it. Ushijima had been good company, and had kept him from asking questions like why he was the only one in the first line who had survived. He’d been in the most vulnerable position on the right side, half his body exposed by his shield.

Yet he’d survived. The gods really were cruel.

“Semi-san?”

Eita looked up to see Shirabu standing there. Before Eita could get a good look at him, Shirabu was already bowing.

“I’m so sorry,” Shirabu said. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and I’m sorry your friends died because of me. I’m sorry. Please continue to work with me.”

Eita was frozen in shock. He could practically see Shirabu choking on his own pride, could see his face turning red and his hands balled into fists from his spot on the ground. Even with what Ushijima had said, Eita hadn’t expected Shirabu to really apologize.

And then he realized that Shirabu hadn’t moved at all from his bow. He was waiting for Eita to answer him.

“Next time,” Eita started, and Shirabu jerked his head up. “Next time they need a plan, if you’re willing to listen, I’ll work with you. But if you ignore me again, either you or I will leave.”

Shirabu was already nodding furiously in agreement before he could even finish speaking. He was slowly backing up out of his bow.

“Thank you,” he said. “I know I’m the last person you want to talk to, so I’ll leave you alone.”

He turned to leave, but something seemed to be stopping him. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned back around, reaching into his pocket.

“Do you want these back?” he asked, holding out the tags Eita had dropped on him a week ago. They had been meticulously scrubbed clean of blood in the meantime. It was almost impossible to notice if you weren’t looking for it.

How long had that taken him?

Eita didn’t reach out to take them, even though he did want them. Kaito’s little sister Manami would want his tag, and Mari’s family would want hers. He ran through the family of his company that he knew of, his brain jumping to ways he could find those he didn’t know.

He wanted the tags back, but he couldn’t reach out and take them. Shirabu was shrinking back.

“I can hold them for you, if you want,” he offered. “I’ll keep them safe for you until the war is over.”

Eita just nodded. He didn’t really want to talk to Shirabu right now, and Shirabu looked just as eager to leave. He put the tags back in his pocket, and turned away for good this time.

He carried them like a ball and chain. There was a heaviness to his footsteps.

 _Good_ , Eita thought. Let him remember what happened when his pride got away from him.

Part of his mind pointed out that Shirabu had done a strategically sound move, and that he’d been under a lot of pressure from all sides, and that he was probably seventeen at this point.

Eita ignored that part of his mind. None of that meant he had to forgive Shirabu, and right now, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to celebrate Kaito’s life right now either.

He wanted to mourn, and forget about teenage omegas with more pride than experience. He wanted to forget that every one of his closest friends was dead, and he was the one who was going to have to tell their families.

Just because a smaller portion of blame rested on Shirabu’s shoulders didn’t mean Eita was done being angry. Healing would come later, and maybe forgiveness with it. But that couldn’t happen now.

For now, Eita would grieve and rage, if only to himself. When he was ready, he would try to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Shirabu works to fix things


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some healing, and some battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as, I needed a few months to pass so I made a montage

_“Every Chess master was once a beginner” – Chernev_

“You’re not going to learn everything you need to know from a book.”

Kenjirou looked up to see Semi looking down at him. He clutched his book defensively.

“It can’t hurt,” he argued. “I haven’t learned a lot about the area up here.”

“I hope that book taught you something useful, then,” Semi said. “The king wants to see us. There’s been news from the scouts.”

Kenjirou’s gut clenched at that, at the promise of more fighting, but ultimately, it was a relief. They’d been sitting at the fort waiting for news from the scouts they sent out for weeks. It was nearly June. They’d been up here for over a month, and with only one battle to show for it, the army was getting restless. Kenjirou had heard about at least three fights breaking out, and he wasn’t sure how much longer they could keep their unsteady peace.

Kenjirou had spent his time scouring the records in the library, looking for any information on battles against Itachiyama and how they were won. He was still reluctant to be around Semi, even with his request for Semi’s help, and Semi seemed to have no problem with the space. He hadn’t sought Kenjirou out, and Kenjirou had been grateful for the time to try and come to terms with…well everything.

But their time was up, and now they would be planning another battle.

The king nodded to them as they entered, sitting next to each other as the meeting started.

“Our scouts saw campfires over here,” the king said, pointing to an area the east and far to the north of them. Kenjirou didn’t miss the river that ran most of the way to the Wall from there. “By what he saw, it looks like they’ve been there a while. It might be where they’ve holed up to lick their wounds before trying another attack.”

“They’ll probably run down the river,” Semi pointed out. Kenjirou nodded. So Semi noticed it too.

“That would put them within attacking distance of the Wall,” the king frowned. “What do you think?”

“Start with archers,” Semi suggested. “I’ve been talking to people from Datekou, and they’ve got a few archers who can hit with deadly accuracy from the top of the Wall. If they send everyone like they did last time, we’ll need people down in front of the Wall like last time they were that close. We’re not outnumbered like we were last time, though, so a standard phalanx should be good.”

“Shirabu?” Kenjirou jolted at being addressed. “Anything to add?”

Kenjirou shook his head.

“Semi-san has it covered,” he said. “It’s a good plan.”

The king just nodded, turning to a page to give instructions to the heads of companies. They would be going east to the fort closest to where Itachiyama would be advancing, and it would take time to move all their several thousand troops.

It was a hard few days’ ride to the east to the second to next fort over, headed by a man named Kamasaki. He answered to Moniwa, but he was largely autonomous within his own fort.

“Welcome,” he boomed, holding his arms out. He was a large man, and he looked nearly as old as Moniwa. They’d probably been friends for a long time. “How are things at main fort? Is that troublemaker Futakuchi still giving poor Moniwa the run around?”

“He behaved himself this time,” the king said, though with a grin. It was clear he’d been around when Futakuchi wasn’t behaving, and was amused by the memory. Kamasaki rolled his eyes.

“Moniwa is convinced he has potential for leadership, but I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said. “Insolent little brat. Anyways, anything you need, anyone here’ll help you out.”

And so they settled in to wait. After about a week of just staying there, scouts came back with the message: Itachiyama was on the move. Just as expected, they were running down the river, directly towards the Wall. They had plenty of time to prepare themselves, and when Itachiyama got there, they were ready.

It was different for Kenjirou this time. He refused to go to the top of the Wall, citing fear of disturbing the archers as his excuse, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear the fight from everywhere he went in the fort. There was no escaping the sounds of people fighting and dying.

Still, they lost very few. The archers had managed to take out enough to scare, and the ones that did make it met the phalanx. They were quick to retreat after that, leaving almost no dead from Shiratorizawa or Datekou in their wake.

The thing that concerned Kenjirou the most was the fact that Itachiyama had sent so few men against them. Based on reports from scouts, they had enough to have made that battle much more difficult than it had been, but they’d only sent a fraction. Instead, it felt like they were reserving most of their force while they tested the waters.

Kenjirou didn’t like it, but he couldn’t see what they could be planning.

They spent another week at Kamasaki’s fort, waiting for more news, before they got news that Itachiyama had moved even farther east. They packed up and left, heading ten miles to the next fort, guarded by a man named Sasaya. He was about the same age as Moniwa and Kamasaki, though far less massive than Kamasaki.

Once again, they were welcomed in, and prepared themselves for another battle. The same strategy held.

This time, however, the phalanx wasn’t even necessary. Itachiyama had retreated as soon as some were hit by arrows from the Wall, and they’d sent even fewer than last time.

Kenjirou couldn’t shake the chill of foreboding that followed him everywhere. Itachiyama was heading for something specific, he was sure of it. Still, he had no evidence, or even an idea of what they were planning, so he kept quiet.

They were almost out of Wall to head east on. Only one more fort stood between them and the peak Soekawa, marking the end of the Wall. Beyond that, there were only mountains so tall and steep that no one could pass through them. There were no passes, at least, and even the hill tribes were known to stay farther east where the mountains were smaller. These were so tall that they were covered in snow even in the height of summer.

And it really was the height of summer now, as they edged into July. There was little danger of fighting in the north now, but Kenjirou was worried. Itachiyama would have to make their move soon, or risk this war stretching into winter. The Wall would protect and shelter Datekou and Shiratorizawa, but Itachiyama would have to then either freeze or retreat for the season.

Something was coming, but try as he might, Kenjirou couldn’t figure out what.

He was pouring over a map, trying to find what Itachiyama was running towards, when he was interrupted.

“If you keep making that face, you’ll get wrinkles before you turn thirty,” a voice behind him startled him out of his trance. Kenjirou turned to see Semi watching him. They’d spoken a few times recently, mostly so Kenjirou could agree with the plan Semi had come up with. He’d voiced his concerns to Semi about what Itachiyama was doing, and Semi shared them, but neither could figure out exactly what was happening.

In the almost two months they’d been running down the Wall, it had gotten a little easier to be around each other. Kenjirou had stopped feeling like he was walking on nails every time Semi was in the room, and Semi even sought him out a few times.

“What are you looking for?” Semi asked. Kenjirou turned back to the map.

“They’re going to run into the mountains soon,” he said. “If they turn, there’s nowhere to go except farther north. The mountains run all the way to the northern sea, so if they’re planning to go around them on the coast, they have a long way ahead of them.”

His mind once again pointed him to a narrow gorge close to the mountains, one he couldn’t stop noticing, though he didn’t know what. It was distracting him, though, so he was trying to ignore it for now and focus on what Itachiyama was doing.

“There’s not a pass through these mountains, is there?” Kenjirou asked, more to the map than to Semi, but Semi answered anyway.

“I’ve heard rumors from the hill tribes, but I don’t know for sure there is one,” Semi said. “But that’s a solid maybe.”

“You talked to the hill tribes?” Kenjirou asked.

“Not all of them are hostile,” Semi told him. “A few helped when I was there fighting. Most are pretty content to stay in their territory and keep the peace, but every so often some try to stir up trouble.”

“Where would a pass even be?” Kenjirou asked, looking at the map again. He was still getting distracted by that damned gorge, though.

“Maybe here?” Semi suggested, pointing. There was a small dip between two mountains. If it was a pass, it would be dangerous, but if someone could get through, they’d be in a good position in Shiratorizawa’s territory.

“I just…can’t see…” Kenjirou complained, leaning even closer and squinting at the pass. A hand on his wrist pulled him back.

“You won’t see anything if you get that close,” Semi said, using his grip on Kenjirou’s wrist to drag him ever farther away. “You have to look at the big picture.”

Kenjirou tried, tried looking at the pass from back here, though it was even harder to see.

“Breathe,” Semi instructed. “Look at all the pieces. What do you see?”

Kenjirou looked at the pass, and looked at the markers that showed Itachiyama’s last known location. The line between the two went right through the gorge that had been bothering him for days.

“There’s a pass,” he said, suddenly certain. “The rumors have to be true. They’re making a run for the pass. That’s why they’ve been saving as many men as they could while fighting us. They need to get as many through that pass alive as possible, and that won’t be easy because it’ll be narrow and dangerous.”

“So what should we do about it?”

“I…”

“Don’t get unsure on me now,” Semi said. “You’re here for a reason, and you don’t have to keep hiding from this. You’re the one who saw the pass and the plan. What do you think we should do?”

Kenjirou took a deep breath in again. Semi’s hand was warm on his wrist.

“See that gorge?” he asked, pointing with his chin. Semi nodded. “It’s narrow, and it’s probably not very deep because it’s in the foothills. It’s a few miles long, and then it levels out right before the pass. It’s a good place to set a trap.”

“What kind of trap?” Now Semi sounded wary.

“They’ll be stuck in the gorge for a few miles,” Kenjirou reasoned. “We can send archers along both sides. It’s a long enough gorge that a lot of them will probably be taken out if we time it right. We can put a phalanx at the end to take out any survivors, and some cavalry too if we can manage it.”

“We could end this here,” Semi breathed, his hand tightening on Kenjirou’s wrist. “It’s low-risk, too. The archers are good, and there are enough that they’ll be able to line the gorge. As long as they don’t run out of arrows, they could destroy most of the army.”

“Exactly,” Kenjirou said. “They’ll be desperate, though. They’re running out of time before winter, and they’ll be trapped by us. And they still outnumber us.”

“That’s what the first half of the plan is for,” Semi said. “See? All you have to do is look at the big picture. You’re good at this.”

Kenjirou shrugged, because it was the most comfortable he’d ever been around Semi and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was almost nice, working as a team.

“You saw this from the beginning, didn’t you?” Kenjirou accused.

“I saw that they were probably going for something in the mountains, but I didn’t see the gorge,” Semi admitted. “That was all you. You just needed to see what was happening on your own.”

“You couldn’t tell me?”

“You’re the one who asked me to help you. It helps you to learn this for yourself.”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes, but it was nice to get along with Semi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Ushijima POV


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I will admit I did Sakusa kind of dirty in this series. I needed a villain, and he was underdeveloped enough when I chose him that I could use him. I'll write him something nice in a series that isn't this one someday.

_“Play the opening like a book, the middle game like a magician, and the endgame like a machine” – Spielmann_

Wakatoshi sat on his horse easily. He’d always been more comfortable fighting in a cavalry unit than he’d ever been on the ground, not that he’d had a lot of experience in true battle. Still, the horse was nice. He rested in the saddle like he’d been born for it, and being above his opponents made fighting them easier.

Goshiki and Kawanishi were beside him, both completely silent. Kawanishi had learned to fight on horseback early as part of training to be the prince’s personal guard, but Goshiki was much less practiced. Still, he’d held his own so far.

The sound of hoof beats drew the army to attention. The shield wall snapped together strong form where they’d let their shields rest while waiting.

The first sign of the enemy cavalry in the gorge galvanized. Wakatoshi heard the fierce war cries from the men and women in the phalanx split the air.

The cavalry was in front, probably outstripping the foot soldiers. Everyone had their shields over their heads to defend from the archers above them, which meant they were entirely vulnerable to the archers on the ground outside the gorge.

That had been a brilliant addition by Semi. While Itachiyama was distracted by the rain of arrows from above, they wouldn’t be looking at the ground. The more Shiratorizawa could take out before Itachiyama made it through the gorge, the better.

Since the cavalry was in front, Wakatoshi called his unit to order. They would ride around and take out the cavalry before they could get to the phalanx. There wasn’t much a shield and spear could do against a charging horse.

His unit shouted at his call for action, preparing to ride after him. He led them in a sweep that attacked the flank of the incoming cavalry. It threw the other unit into chaos, the attack on the heels of so many dying to arrows.

It was hard to distinguish who might be the leader. Itachiyama fought bareheaded, which could make sense in the winter when it got cold enough to freeze metal to skin, but for now, their lack of helmets made them easier to beat.

The cavalry managed to ride off to the side, but Wakatoshi kept his unit from chasing. For now, they weren’t important. The incoming mass of infantry was.

His father’s cavalry had been behind him, and now they were on opposite sides of the phalanx. They pinched together, forcing the incoming infantry to keep together in a narrow area and preventing them from trying to surround the phalanx.

And then the two sides met and everything was chaos as the true battle broke out. Wakatoshi lost himself in the ebb and flow of attacking the flanks of his enemy. That was much harder after the cavalry at the back, the cavalry that the king had been riding with, made it through the gorge.

Wakatoshi could see the king, only identifiable because he wore a crown of iron on his head. He led a charge over to the right, and Wakatoshi was ready for him. They rode around each other, looking for openings. With an enemy cavalry unit so close, neither could risk attacking the exposed flank of the armies beside them.

Wakatoshi wanted to end this standoff as soon as possible. While he was confident in their phalanx, they were still outnumbered. The sooner he could go back to attacking the flank, the better.

Their cavalry and the enemy king’s danced around each other, each sometimes darting forward, but always being pressed back. There was no way to get directly next to the king to take him out, and as long as he lived, the unit would stand.

“Get me close enough,” Wakatoshi commanded his unit. If he couldn’t get next to the king, he would try something else.

They rode around the edge, playing like they were looking for another opening, before charging in. The other unit turned to face them, but the charge wasn’t what they had to worry about. Wakatoshi shifted his grip on his spear to an overhand. With how close they’d gotten, he was in the perfect position to throw it. He had to hope it would fly true.

He threw with all his strength, enough to catch the king under his chin and knock him clean off his horse. Wakatoshi felt a rush of satisfaction. There was no way anyone could survive a spear directly to the throat.

A wild cry distracted him. Wakatoshi barely had time to brace himself before another cavalry unit was on them. Unprepared for the onslaught, the spear he barely managed to catch with his shield was enough to knock him from his saddle. He landed hard, but not hard enough to break anything. Scrambling to his feet, he saw that it was too chaotic to even try remounting. He drew his sword, not having even enough time to pull the spear from his shield.

It was heavy, and split, and he hoped it would be enough to protect him. Kawanishi and Goshiki tried to make him a pocket of calm for long enough to get back on his horse. But each kept getting pulled a little away by another attack, just enough that it was never calm enough for Wakatoshi to get off the ground. He desperately defended himself with his shield, not even getting a chance to use his sword for all the spears that came his way.

To their credit, the rest of his unit was holding their own, managing to keep enemies away from Wakatoshi and even knock most of them to the ground. One landed in a roll, and his eyes focused on Wakatoshi.

He wore a smaller crown on his uncovered head, marking him as the prince. Sakusa, Wakatoshi knew his name was. They faced each other as the cavalry units chased each other far away.

Everyone else who had fallen had either died from the fall or another wound. It was just the two of them, and neither had a spear. Wakatoshi threw his shield to the ground. It was nearly broken from the battering it had taken, and heavy with a few extra spears in it. It was of no use to him anymore.

Sakusa stalked closer, moving like a well-trained swordsman. Wakatoshi set himself. His sword, designed for cavalry, was longer than the average infantry sword, not quite long enough to be wielded with two hands, but with the extra knob at the end, it made a decent hand-and-a-half sword.

Sakusa attacked first, but Wakatoshi dodged, before throwing his own attack. Sakusa stepped back, a look of surprise in his eyes. Wakatoshi was used to seeing that. It wasn’t common knowledge that he was left handed, especially since he’d learned to fight with a spear right handed so he wouldn’t throw off the rest of whatever unit he was working with.

However, he’d always learned to fight with a sword left handed, and he was used to going against opponents with little target area. He was used to fighting right handed people, but almost no right handed people were used to fighting him.

Sakusa snarled at him, trying to get in a hit, but Wakatoshi blocked him at every turn. No matter how good his training was, it was hard for anyone to flip everything they were used to doing, and that was the only way Sakusa would win against him.

Sakusa fought him desperately, but Wakatoshi was older and left handed and more experienced, and he pressed Sakusa back. He stepped forward. He fought until Sakusa had to let his guard down out of exhaustion, and then he struck.

Somehow, Sakusa still managed to avoid the worst of the killing blow, taking it on his chin. Wakatoshi turned his blade and knocked Sakusa’s to the ground, and Sakusa fell with it. Blood streamed down his chin from the cut across the lower half of his face. He scrambled for his fallen sword.

“Stop,” Wakatoshi commanded, pressing his sword to Sakusa’s throat. “It’s over.”

And it was over. The phalanx was still standing, but Wakatoshi’s father had cut through the Itachiyama infantry with his cavalry while Sakusa had been distracted with Wakatoshi. His cavalry unit was already riding back to him victorious.

Sakusa’s eyes flickered to his father’s body, a few dozen feet away from them.

“Take him and go,” Wakatoshi said. He kicked Sakusa’s sword far away from both of them. “Go home. It’s over.”

Sakusa snarled, but there was little else he could do. Even this – allowing him to live and to collect his father’s body – was a kindness. Wakatoshi was well within his rights to kill him. It didn’t seem right, though, not now that the battle was over and they had won so overwhelmingly. He could see very few dead from Shiratorizawa. Most were in the purple of Itachiyama.

Sakusa got to his feet, and Wakatoshi backed away. He wouldn’t turn his back, not until he was riding away in the safety of his unit. Sakusa moved to his father’s side, closing the wide and staring eyes.

“I’ll be back for my revenge,” Sakusa spit, startling Wakatoshi. “Remember this day and regret it. I’ll get my revenge.”

Before Wakatoshi had the opportunity to respond, his unit was back, and he was climbing onto his horse and riding away from the hatred and grief in Sakusa’s eyes.

Their war was over. They had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: everyone goes home


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kawashiki finally get together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've had enough sadness so I put on some Disney music and got these two together. Also, I love writing from Goshiki's POV? Why do I never write from his POV?

_“Chess is ruthless: you’ve got to be prepared to kill people” - Nigel Short_

Tsutomu was glad to be getting back to Shiratorizawa. They’d gone back to the main fort for a few weeks to give everyone who’d been injured time to heal, but he hadn’t been hurt badly, and he’d been so bored just sitting there waiting to leave.

Finally, though, everyone was a healed as they were going to get, and Datekou was starting to tire of sharing space with them. They’d mounted up for the week long ride back to the citadel. Without the rush of trying to get to the north to save the king, they wouldn’t be pushing the horses to the breaking point like they did on the way up. By the time they got there, it would be August, nearly time for his birthday. Maybe he should mention to Ushijima that he would like the day off to celebrate with his parents, but then, he wasn’t sure if he would stay on as a guard to Ushijima once they got back.

Tsutomu was at Ushijima’s right side, as he usually was, and trying to talk to Kawanishi across the prince. The ride got really boring really fast, and the best way to pass the time was to chat.

However, Kawanishi was distracted. His senpai was focusing most of his attention on Shirabu.

And for good reason, Tsutomu had to admit. Even he’d noticed that Shirabu was quieter and more withdrawn than usual, and he didn’t know the older omega that well. Something was wrong, or else Kawanishi wouldn’t be watching Shirabu so carefully.

So Tsutomu passed his time talking to Ushijima, and Semi when he rode closer to them. Tsutomu liked both of them. They took his mind off everything that had happened up north, and they had good stories to tell. Ushijima had learned a lot in the castle, and Semi had learned a lot travelling all over the kingdom, so it was easy to ride between them and let them talk.

Tsutomu thought he would be okay, though. He hadn’t had a nightmare about the battles in days, and he thought about a lot of other things now, too.

Like how soft Kawanishi looked when Shirabu’s back was turned and his shoulders were hunched. Tsutomu had never seen his senpai look soft like that, but then, Kawanishi and Shirabu had a special relationship. Tsutomu couldn’t claim to understand it fully, but he did know it was purely platonic. He’d asked whether the two were together purely out of curiosity, and all he’d gotten in return was a disgusted look from Shirabu.

Kawanishi had explained later that they were close friends, but any kind of romantic connection was never going to happen between the two of them. It was less an issue of them being like brothers and more of an issue of them being highly compatible platonically and completely incompatible romantically.

Kawanishi looked good when he was being soft. His eyes lost the tension they carried at the edges at all times, even before they’d left the citadel to go north. Maybe always being tense was part of being the only guard to the prince. He was constantly on the lookout for threats.

But his look of concern for Shirabu was nice. He was a little more relaxed in his shoulders, too, and Tsutomu noticed for not the first time, with a little flutter in his chest, that those shoulder were broad. Kawanishi was taller than him, but also slimmer than him, and Tsutomu hadn’t thought of him as broad before now.

He hadn’t thought about how strong Kawanishi was before now.

_Oh._

That flutter in his chest was attraction.

It made sense. He’d admitted from the beginning that he thought Kawanishi was pretty, and with all the time they’d been spending together it was no surprise some attraction had formed.

_Oh._

That look Kawanishi gave him sometimes was attraction too. The soft look that was different from what he gave to Shirabu, with the little blush in his cheeks…

_Oh._

He must have been an idiot not to notice before now. Kawanishi had been giving him that look for at least a month now, maybe longer. It had been right in front of him.

Still, it was probably a good idea to wait to act on this until they got back to the citadel. They both had their duties watching over Ushijima, and Kawanishi was distracted by whatever was going on with Shirabu, anyway.

“Is something going on with those two?” Semi asked him after a couple days of riding. Tsutomu shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“I think something is wrong, and Kawanishi-senpai knows what, but I don’t know what’s happening,” he admitted. Semi looked concerned. “I thought you didn’t like Shirabu-san?”

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” Semi said slowly. “He’s not always easy to get along with, and we had a lot of disagreements. I’m still not completely past everything that happened between us, but that doesn’t mean I hate him.”

“So you’re trying to like him?” Tsutomu asked.

“I guess you could say that,” Semi said. “More like I’m trying to understand him better so I can move past what happened.”

“Then you have to communicate clearly,” Tsutomu told him, because it was the obvious answer. “You’ll never understand each other if you don’t tell each other clearly how you feel.”

Semi gave him a strange look for a moment.

“You’re a smarter kid than they give you credit for,” he finally said, reaching out to ruffle Tsutomu’s hair. It was a habit Kawanishi had fallen into as well, though much more than Semi – he really was an idiot for not noticing this attraction sooner.

“I’m not that smart,” Tsutomu argued. “It’s not wisdom to say what’s clearly in front of you.”

“That’s why I say you’re smart.”

Before Tsutomu could question that further, Semi got pulled into a conversation with Ushijima.

It was a relief when they were finally back at the citadel. They’d met a lot of people on the road, all ecstatic to see their king and prince returning. Tsutomu and Kawanishi had been practically glued to Ushijima and by extent, to each other. It was somehow harder because he’d noticed his attraction, but also better, because he wanted to be by Kawanishi’s side.

But they were finally back, and Tsutomu couldn’t be happier to be off his horse. He’d never liked riding them much.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, because Ushijima had retreated to his room and told both of them to take a few hours to rest, as he would be doing the same. Kawanishi nodded and let Tsutomu pull him by the wrist to a quiet corner. He knew Kawanishi lived somewhere in the castle, but he didn’t know where, and Tsutomu had been living with his parents right up until they left for the north.

“What’s wrong?” Kawanishi asked. Tsutomu was suddenly out of words. He knew he liked Kawanishi, and he knew Kawanishi liked him, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to talk his way past that.

So instead, he leaned up on his toes so he was level with Kawanishi’s face, but remembered at the last second that it was probably rude to kiss someone out of the blue without permission.

“Can I…?” he breathed, close enough that he could feel Kawanishi’s sharp breath on his lips. In answer, Kawanishi leaned the rest of the distance to press their lips together.

He pressed Kawanishi into the wall behind him. Kawanishi let him maneuver them, let Tsutomu do as he pleased. Tsutomu licked across the seam of his lips, and Kawanishi opened under him, letting him take the lead, and Tsutomu was happy to deliver. He’d kissed before but never someone who had been as pliant and eager as Kawanishi.

“I…” Kawanishi gasped, pulling back for breath. Tsutomu stayed close, leaning into his chest. “I have a room, you know.”

“Lead the way,” Tsutomu said, hearing how his voice had gone low and dark and commanding. Kawanishi shivered hard enough at that for Tsutomu to feel it.

Instead of taking his wrist, Tsutomu held Kawanishi’s hand and interlaced their fingers, letting Kawanishi pull him through the castle. His room was close to Ushijima’s, a bit on the small side, but cozy. Tsutomu could see little traces of Kawanishi everywhere. He must have lived here for a while.

“What exactly are you looking for here?” Kawanishi asked. His cheeks were still flushed, but he sounded more like his usual self.

“I’d like to court you properly,” Tsutomu said. Kawanishi blushed redder. “What would you like? Attention, obviously, but do you like gifts? Flattery? Maybe poetry, although I’m not good at words? What kind of courtship would you like?”

“Fuck,” Kawanishi swore softly. “You’d do all that for me?”

“Of course.”

And Kawanishi was kissing him again, hard enough that Tsutomu was sitting on the closest chair and letting Kawanishi straddle his lap.

“Kawanishi-senpai…”

“You should…” Kawanishi gasped as Tsutomu moved to kiss down his neck. “You should probably call me Taichi.”

“Taichi.”

“ _Fuck_.”

So now they were courting. That was easier than Tsutomu had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: what exactly is wrong with Shirabu


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home time. Time for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to get Semi and Shirabu a little closer

_“Life is like a game of Chess, changing with each move” - Chinese proverb_

It was a relief to be home. It was a relief to feel safe again, and to be with his father again, and to not have to worry about everyone making it out of a war alive.

Kenjirou could not possibly be happier about being back in the citadel.

He was, however, less than pleased about the developments in his best friend’s love life. More specifically, how those developments kept getting shoved in his face.

“For the last time, I get it,” Kenjirou complained, cutting Taichi off. “Goshiki is amazing, and the love of your life, and you don’t know how you ever lived without him. All others pale in comparison to him. I heard you the first time.”

“You could not possibly sound more bitter,” Taichi told him. “Can’t you at least act like you’re happy for me?”

And the thing was, Kenjirou _was_ happy for him. Whatever shit they gave each other, Taichi deserved someone who would treat him right, and Goshiki seemed to be doing just that.

He could just do without the updates about how _fantastic_ their sex lives were.

“That just makes you sound more bitter,” Taichi told him when that slipped out. “You’re pretty enough. You’re perfectly capable of getting laid if you want to.”

Kenjirou gave him a look that he hoped conveyed exactly how stupid that suggestion was.

“You’re mean lately, you know that?” Taichi said. “I mean, you’re a bitch on your best day, but you’ve been really nasty since we went up to the Wall. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kenjirou told him.

“See, normally I’d let you get away with that and trust you to deal with it on your own, but you’re not dealing with it on your own,” Taichi sighed. “You haven’t been okay in a while. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The thing was, Kenjirou didn’t really have an answer for him. He was aware of something being off, but not what exactly was wrong. He just knew it was bothering him like a thorn in his side that he couldn’t find in his clothes to remove.

It felt a little better now that they were home, and he could let his father protect him again, and he could stay inside and try to avoid the blistering heat next to the windows in the library, but something was still…off. He didn’t know what, though, so he was trying to ignore it.

“Well, you should still try to deal with it,” Taichi told him, when Kenjirou had been silent for long enough. “And I was serious about getting laid if you want to. I can ask around to the alphas around the castle, or betas if you want. It doesn’t have to be permanent. No strings attached.”

That wasn’t really what Kenjirou wanted either. Much as he’d deny it to anyone who asked, he wanted his first time to be _special_ , not some roll in the hay with a stranger for a few minutes just because. It was something people would call him a romantic for, but he didn’t think it was that weird to not want to sleep with someone who meant nothing to him.

“I’m fine,” is what Kenjirou actually said. “But I swear, I _do not_ need to hear about Goshiki’s stamina again. Your point has been made.”

“I couldn’t have designed him better if I’d tried,” Taichi said, and he looked disgustingly dreamy. “It would have been good enough if he was willing to do all the work, but he’s sweet on top of that. Still, those thighs…”

“Enough!” Kenjirou snapped.

Another thorn in his side: Semi was living in the castle now. Although, that wasn’t quite the annoyance it might have been a few months ago when they’d met. He wasn’t sure if he would call Semi a friend, but they weren’t enemies or casual acquaintances either.

Semi got under his skin. Semi was brash and in his face and Kenjirou was enough of a hothead to let Semi drag him into arguments, but they weren’t always yelling. Just because they argued didn’t mean they were always trying to go for each other’s throat. In fact, some of the time, it was even a little bit fun.

He’d found out Semi was offered a place in the castle because Semi had told him.

“They offered to make me general,” he’d said. “I’d be right under the king. Right about the same rank as you.”

“You should take it,” Kenjirou had found himself saying. “You’ve earned it.”

“It would mean I’d have to stay here in the castle,” Semi had replied. “And I wouldn’t be able to travel as much. I’d have to settle down here instead of running all over the kingdom with my friends. And I’d be in charge of sorting out and training new recruits. Not sure I want to deal with teenage brats after I’ve had to deal with you for so long.”

“Hey!”

“Still, it might be nice to settle down for a while,” Semi had mused, looking off into the distance. “I think I’ve had enough of wandering for a while. My parents’ll be happy to have me close to home, too.”

So he had decided to stay. Kenjirou was looking for him now, actually, because Taichi and Goshiki and Ushijima were all off doing something, and he was feeling too restless to sit still in the August heat. He didn’t want to go outside, but he couldn’t sit still long enough to read.

Being around Semi didn’t feel like walking on nails anymore, and even picking a fight would be better than this. Semi had a better suggestion when Kenjirou showed up at his door, though.

“Show me around?” he asked. “I haven’t actually spent much time here, so I only know the common areas.”

Kenjirou obliged, shooting Semi looks out of the corner of his eye. Semi was wearing a short, flowy skirt instead of pants. It was unusual for an alpha to wear a skirt. Kenjirou tugged at his collar, feeling roasted inside his pants and long sleeves.

It was kind of fun showing Semi around, watching him stare at all the new places. Kenjirou kept getting drawn to his legs, thick with muscles that his skirt did nothing to hide. He told himself it was because he’d never seen them before, and because it was unusual for an alpha like Semi to wear a skirt, even in this heat.

They hardly argued at all that day, and by the end of it, Kenjirou was starting to think that maybe Semi was a friend after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Semi POV, and learning to deal with Shirabu


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semishira learn how to get along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look an actual happy chapter with only a little bit of hinted angst go me! Also, hints at a future fic if you squint

_"Chess is a more highly symbolic game, but the aggressions are therefore even more frankly represented in the play. It probably began as a war game; that is, the representation of a miniature battle between the forces of two kingdoms” - Karl Meninger_

Eita looked around his room. It was bigger than what he was used to. Growing up, he’d been in a room half this size with his brother Kenta, and once he’d joined the army, it had been a life of tents and barracks and a large number of people sleeping in a very small space.

Now, though, he had a lot of space to himself. There was the bed, of course – bigger than anything he’d ever had before – with enough space to the side for a small desk and a window. He even had a space for what he assumed was entertaining guests, with a small table and a few chairs.

Eita wasn’t sure he didn’t prefer his room back in the village with his brother, or the barracks. This room was bigger, but cold and impersonal. While at home their walls had been covered with drawings on any scraps of paper they could find and pieces for games they’d made up and pretty things they’d found while running wild, there was nothing in this room that identified it as his. Anybody could live here, or nobody.

“Hey,” a voice interrupted him. Eita turned to see Shirabu leaning against his doorframe.

“What’s up?” Eita asked. As far as he could remember, this was the first time Shirabu had ever come looking for him like this.

“Want to play a game with me?” Shirabu asked. “I’m bored, and you don’t look like you have anything better to do.”

“What kind of game?”

“It’s a little bit like chess,” Shirabu explained. “But less abstract and more like a real battle. We each have pieces, and we move them around on a board shaped like some fictional country. We roll dice to see how far we can move and which direction. Whoever captures their opponent’s king first wins.”

“Why do you want me to play with you?” Eita asked. He wasn’t under the impression that he and Shirabu were that close, though he didn’t really hold much anger for Shirabu anymore. It had been nearly three months, and he had had enough time to mourn and come to terms with everything and find some kind of forgiveness for Shirabu.

“Ushijima-sama is working with the king and queen on something important and princely, Taichi and Goshiki are either with him or each other and I’m not a fan of either, and Papa is no good at this game,” Shirabu ticked off his fingers. “He’s a merchant, so he’s good with money, but not with war.”

“Nice to know I’m your last choice,” Eita complained, though he was mostly teasing. Shirabu actually looked a little abashed.

“Ushijima-sama and Taichi aren’t much better than Papa, and I’m pretty sure Goshiki doesn’t know how to play,” Shirabu said. “You’re the best choice.”

“I’m flattered.”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, but stepped farther into the room, holding a box in his hands. He sat down at Eita’s table, an easy grace about him. Eita might not be the type for entertaining noble guests, but Shirabu clearly knew what he was doing.

“Do you want to play or not?” Shirabu asked, and Eita realized he’d been standing there staring for longer than he’d meant to.

He sat across the table from Shirabu, watching him set up the board. Shirabu pointed out pieces as he put them in what seemed to be a starting area.

“So you have a phalanx, two cavalry, a king, a knight, and a dragon,” Shirabu explained, setting up a white side closer to Eita and the black pieces closer to himself.

“A dragon?” Eita asked.

“I don’t know either,” Shirabu shrugged. “It’s in the rules. It’s the strongest piece in the game, it causes a lot of damage, but it’s pretty vulnerable to the knight.”

“What country is this supposed to be?” Eita asked. There were a lot more markers for cities than he knew of in all the kingdoms put together.

“The rules call it Kanto,” Shirabu said. “I’m pretty sure it’s made up. It’s way bigger than all the kingdoms. You’ll see when we start to play, but it takes a while to get anywhere. Much longer than it would take to get anywhere here. I think that’s just to make the game more interesting.”

“Hmm.”

Shirabu gave him a brief rundown of the rules, which were actually pretty similar to chess, not that Eita had played a lot of chess in his life. He did know Shirabu was letting him start with an advantage by playing white, but that was probably because he thought he could win with a handicap.

And he did, easily, because he had played before and Eita hadn’t, but Eita was starting to get the hang of the gameplay.

He still hadn’t managed to beat Shirabu by the time they had to light candles to see what they were doing, and Shirabu started yawning. They called it quits, and Shirabu packed the game up.

“Play with me again?” Shirabu asked. “This was…a lot of fun, actually.”

“Sure,” Eita agreed, because it had killed a lot of time without either of them realizing. “I’ll figure out how to beat you with white, and then I’ll figure out how to beat you with black.”

“Actually, the pieces aren’t called white and black,” Shirabu said. “The white is called Nekoma, and the black is called Fukurodani, though I don’t know where those names come from. The rules say they’re the two biggest kingdoms in Kanto.”

“Interesting.”

They continued meeting up, usually in Eita’s room, to play the game. Eita was getting better, especially once he learned how to use his dragon. He even managed to beat Shirabu playing Nekoma a few times, though never as Fukurodani.

The end of August passed in a flash, and it started cooling down as they bled into September. Shirabu looked more comfortable in those long sleeves he always wore, and Eita switched back to pants.

“What did you do before I showed up?” Eita asked. “You said you were bored when we started playing.”

“I read a lot,” Shirabu told him. “I’ve been too…restless since we went north to settle down and read, but that was a lot of my time. And I had lessons with Ushijima-sama, but he’s been so busy that those have stopped. He was bound to stop them soon anyway. Taichi had a lot more free time before he became Ushijima-sama’s personal guard when he turned eighteen.”

“Speaking of birthdays,” Eita said. “Yours happened at some point, didn’t it? You’re seventeen now?”

“You’re about four months late,” Shirabu rolled his eyes.

“Happy late birthday, then.”

“Fuck off.”

When had the insults started to sound friendly?

He didn’t realize how weirdly close they had gotten until one night when they were playing late by candlelight. Shirabu had worked himself into quite the corner, and had been staring at the board for five minutes trying to work his way out. His eyes were blank, and he was starting to look a little distressed. Maybe it was silly, but Eita had noticed him get unusually frustrated with himself when he couldn’t figure his way out of problems.

Without thinking, he was walking around the table and crouching next to Shirabu. Shirabu smelled like vanilla.

“Breathe,” he said, forcing Shirabu to look at him. Shirabu really did look frustrated, and Eita was starting to get a better understanding of why. “You’re too focused on the little details. Take a deep breath and look at the big picture.”

He obeyed, took a deep breath, and looked back at the board. After a moment, he let out a soft _oh_ and moved his piece.

Eita lost that game, but he thought it was worth it for calming Shirabu down. Now he just needed a few more pieces and he could put together the puzzle that was Shirabu Kenjirou.

Maybe then he could figure out why Taichi was so worried and Shirabu seemed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Shirabu, and what's wrong with him


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's wrong with Shirabu, and some more bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, you thought I was done with pain? I haven't even made Shirabu cry yet. (I'm crying too though)

_“That’s what Chess is all about. One day you give your opponent a lesson, the next day he gives you one” - Bobby Fischer_

Kenjirou finally felt settled enough to pick up the book he’d never finished before they left. Part of it was that they’d finally found out what had happened to Saitou.

His entire household had been hit by a terrible sickness. Saitou himself had been bedridden and near death for weeks. Everyone had been too sick or too busy dealing with the sick to notice eagles, and by the time he even knew a war was happening, it was already nearly over.

Still weak from his sickness, Saitou was in no condition to travel, so he wouldn’t be coming back to the citadel for some time. That left Kenjirou with his continuing excess of free time, but removing the worry about his teacher meant he could sit still for long enough to read.

He was just starting to get into it when someone interrupted him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this happy.”

Kenjirou shot a glare over the top of his book at Semi. He had just gotten himself immersed, and he felt fuzzy like he’d been rudely awoken from a pleasant dream.

“I like reading,” he said, trying to return to the book as soon as possible. Semi didn’t speak again for a long time, but he still stood there watching, and Kenjirou couldn’t get back to the peace he’d been at before he’d been interrupted.

“You never wanted to be a strategist.”

The way Semi said it was so _final_ , like there was no question to that very incorrect statement.

“Of course I did.” Kenjirou didn’t even bother looking up from his book this time. “I’ve trained for this my whole life. It’s what I’m good at.”

“I never said you weren’t good at it,” Semi said. “You are. But you don’t want it.”

“Of course I do,” Kenjirou argued, and his voice was edging higher. Something in his chest was snapping tighter and tighter the more Semi insisted that he didn’t want what he had worked for his whole life.

“No, you don’t,” Semi said. “I’ve never seen you even close to as happy as you just were reading. You were miserable the entire time we were up in the north.”

“War isn’t a fun time!”

“No, but something’s been wrong with you ever since we got back,” Semi pressed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt somethin’ off in yourself. It’s so obvious that somethin’ isn’t sittin’ well with you.”

Kenjirou barely noticed Semi slipping back into his village accent as his words sped up.

“This is what I’ve always wanted,” Kenjirou said, though he didn’t sound convincing even to himself.

“Is it?” Semi asked. “Or is it what everyone around you wanted for you?”

“Shut up!” Kenjirou snapped, shocked to find that he was on the verge of tears. “Just shut up!”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Semi’s voice was much softer, and he dropped to his knees in front of where Kenjirou was sitting so he could look up into his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m stuck,” Kenjirou whispered, lifting a hand to his mouth as if he could shove the words back in. “Oh gods, I’m going to spend the rest of my life sentencing people to death in battle.”

“Shh,” Semi hushed him, holding one of his hands. “It’s okay, I’m sorry. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

And suddenly his face was in Semi’s shoulder, and he was crying for real, and _oh gods he never cried_ , what was wrong with him? But he couldn’t calm down, and he could barely draw breath.

“Shh,” Semi hushed him again, although it didn’t sound like _stop crying_. “You’re okay, you’re safe, nothin’s gonna hurt you here.”

Kenjirou gasped for breath and grabbed the front of Semi’s shirt.

“I want…I w-want out,” he shook between sobs. “I don’t w-want this, I d-don’t want to do this anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Semi soothed him, running a hand up and down his back. “It’s okay, you’re okay, it’s okay.”

Semi smelled like cinnamon.

Finally, Kenjirou caught his breath enough that his sobs stopped, even if his tears didn’t.

“Semi?” His voice sounded so rough.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you wear your hair long?”

He felt more than heard Semi let out his breath in surprise.

“I just like it this length, why?”

“I don’t want to talk about war anymore.”

“Hmm.”

They sat in silence for another moment, Kenjirou firmly buried in Semi’s shoulder.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I can’t see colors right,” Semi told him. “My parents and siblings can’t either. But I like brown. It’s one of the few that’s not messed up.”

“Ah.”

“What’s yours?”

“I like red,” Kenjirou told him. “It’s supposed to be lucky.”

“So I hear.”

Once again, they lapsed into silence. Kenjirou was basically done crying, but he wasn’t quite ready to come out of Semi’s shoulder and face the world again. He wasn’t quite sure why Semi wasn’t shoving him off yet – it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t crying anymore – but he was grateful for it.

“I don’t think you have to worry about war any time soon, if it helps,” Semi offered, still in his village accent. It was soothing, though. “Itachiyama isn’t gonna attack us again anytime soon, and we’re pretty friendly with Seijoh. They won’t pull you in for some hill tribe attacks. You’ll probably be left alone for a long time.”

“But I’ll have to do this again,” Kenjirou whispered.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Semi told him. “Your friends’ll be with you. I’ll be with you.”

“But you’ll all be fighting,” Kenjirou argued. “I’m the only one left behind. What if you all don’t come back?”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Semi promised. “You’re good at what you do, even if you hate it. I’ll put my trust in you, so put your trust in me comin’ back.”

Kenjirou took one last cinnamon-laced breath before backing out of Semi’s shoulder. The light hurt for just a minute before his eyes adjusted. He was a little embarrassed to notice how soaked Semi’s shirt was.

For some reason, he couldn’t quite meet Semi’s eyes anymore. He settled for looking out the window instead, which didn’t work as well when Semi reached for his chin.

Kenjirou could feel himself blushing as Semi swiped his thumbs across the tear tracks still left on his face, cradling it carefully between his hands. He wasn’t used to being handled this gently. It still felt too embarrassing to look directly at Semi, so instead, he turned his eyes to the side.

“You gonna be okay?” Semi asked, still holding his face.

“Yeah,” Kenjirou said. He just felt tired now. “I want to go to my room.”

“I’ll walk you there.”

Kenjirou wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t for Semi to settle a hand between his shoulder blades and walk him all the way to his door.

“Thanks for…everything,” he said, reaching for his doorknob.

“No problem,” Semi told him, schooling his voice back into the accent of the nobles. “Besides, wouldn’t want everyone knowing what an ugly crier you are.”

“Go die.”

“You’d miss me.”

Kenjirou shot him a glare before stepping into his room. He wasn’t sure why he still felt like blushing.

He wasn’t sure why his heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Semi and his big gay crush


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semi deals with his big gay crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy do I love Semi with a crush. It might be my favorite Semi.

_“You have to have the fighting spirit. You have to force moves and take chances” - Bobby Fischer_

So Eita was honest enough with himself that he could admit it.

He had a crush.

A big crush on Shirabu, and he wasn’t completely sure how to approach it. On the one hand, Shirabu’s age shouldn’t be too much of a barrier. He was hardly a child, and if he was interested in a relationship, there was no reason not to pursue one.

On the other hand, he could get burned so easily. They’d already proven how badly things could go if they didn’t communicate. And Shirabu may not be that much younger than him, but he did have a kind of impenetrable feeling around him. Eita wasn’t keen on the idea of rejection.

So for now, he was playing it safe. He didn’t have to do anything about his crush immediately. Instead, he would continue spending time with Shirabu as they had been doing, and in the meantime, he would try to adjust to life in the castle.

Which meant he would have to start making friends here. He was already most of the way there with Taichi and Ushijima, but the new guard Goshiki was probably worth another look, and it was better to get to know all of them better, anyway. He’d probably be working closely with them in the future.

They were busy most of the time – there was still fallout from the war to deal with, and as it moved into October and the first snowfall of the year threatened, they were busy making sure there would be enough to last the citadel through the winter.

Still, Eita did find some of their free time to spend with them. Taichi was just as sarcastic and biting as he’d always been – Eita could see why he and Shirabu were best friends. Goshiki was a sweet kid with a surprising amount of insight, and it wasn’t long before Eita had switched to calling him Tsutomu. He rarely called anybody by their surname once he got to know them, with Ushijima and Shirabu as glaring exceptions.

It was almost surprising to learn that Tsutomu was the same age as Shirabu, now that his birthday had come and gone. In a lot of ways, he seemed much younger, but that was only on the surface. Tsutomu had a kind of wisdom that couldn’t come from anything but experience, and he carried himself with pride, even if he forgot himself a lot in his excitement. He was young at heart, and probably always would be, but that didn’t mean he was a child.

And Ushijima…Eita had a lot more respect for him after everything that had happened up north. Granted, he’d thought Ushijima was as cold as his mother when they’d first met, but if knowing each other for a few years hadn’t changed his opinion, the way Ushijima treated him after the battle had convinced him. Ushijima, in his own way, cared deeply about his people, and could often see to the heart of their issues by observation alone. He would make a good king someday.

All in all, Eita was pleased with the people he was closest to in the castle. They were a good group.

He’d noticed that Shirabu seemed to be withdrawing in on himself, though. He came looking for Eita to play a game or just to talk less, and when Eita did go looking for him, he usually found him tucked in a far corner in the library, isolated from everyone.

Eita could understand the compulsion to push people away, but in the long run, that wasn’t going to help Shirabu. Luckily, Eita had an idea.

“You should come down to the village with me tomorrow,” he said, once again finding Shirabu with his nose buried in a book. Shirabu looked up, only his eyes showing over the top.

Eita had always liked brown eyes. Blue or green or any other color would be distorted to him, but brown was always clear.

“I’d rather stay here,” Shirabu said.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Eita insisted – gently, because he didn’t like what had happened last time he pushed too hard, even if it was probably better for both of them. “They’re celebrating the harvest festival starting tomorrow. Haven’t you ever been to that?”

Shirabu shook his head.

“It’s a lot of fun,” Eita promised. “There’s always a lot of games and food and dancing at night. Ushijima-sama is going with Taichi and Tsutomu.”

Something in Shirabu’s face relaxed at the promise of people he knew that would be there.

“Fine,” he said slowly. “But I’m leaving if it’s too much.”

It almost turned out to be too much. Shirabu had given the crowd gathered in the village square a look like a deer seeing a hunter. Someone had knocked him into Eita’s side, and he almost looked ready to turn tail and run until Eita caught him and held his hand.

“Stay close,” Eita said. “Don’t wanna lose each other in the crowd.”

He couldn’t help falling back into his usually accent down here in the village, but he wasn’t trying that hard to keep up the noble accent, either. This was a day to have fun.

Shirabu, despite the death threat he’d thrown at Eita for that, squeezed his hand every time the crowd pulled at them. It wasn’t as bad when they drifted closer to Ushijima and Taichi and Tsutomu. People naturally parted for the crown prince.

Eita pulled Shirabu all over the place, looking at all the games and grabbing bites of food they could carry around with them. Shirabu actually looked like he was having fun, smiling as he followed Eita around. It was a good look on him.

Finally, though, Eita could sense that Shirabu was starting to get overwhelmed by the people surrounding them, so he took them both to a familiar door.

“Hey Ma!” he called, stepping into the smell of freshly baked bread like a warm bath.

“Eita!” she yelled back, a smile in her voice. “Grab the cookies from the oven, would ya? We’re near out.”

Eita stepped into the kitchen, covering his hands with a towel to go into the oven for the baking cookies. He turned around to see Shirabu staring around with something like awe.

“Here,” he said, passing one of the cookies to Shirabu. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Shirabu ignored him and bit into the cookie instantly, making a face when he burned his tongue. Then it smoothed out into something undeniably happy when he actually tasted it.

Eita didn’t have long to hang around, instead hurrying the cookies up to his mother at the front of the bakery. She kissed him on the cheek, setting them out in a hurry. This was always one of their busiest days of the year, and the bakery was packed with people.

“We’re also runnin’ low on rolls, dear, if you’ll put more on,” she said. “Did I hear someone else come in?”

“Yeah,” Eita told her. “I have a friend. He needs a breather from the festival.”

“Put ‘im to work if he’s up for it.”

“Will do.”

Eita headed back to the kitchen. Shirabu was still standing awkwardly, avoiding anyone who walked around him.

“C’mere,” Eita said. “Help me out.”

Shirabu wrinkled his nose, but he looked grateful for some direction.

He was absolute shit at anything to do with baking, and Eita spent more time fixing his mistakes than he did actually following his mother’s instructions, called back to them every so often, but it was fun anyway.

After a particularly vicious critique of Shirabu’s nonexistent kneading skills, Eita got flour thrown in his face for his troubles. He opened his eyes to the strangest look he’d ever seen on Shirabu’s face, before Shirabu burst out laughing.

It was the ugliest thing Eita had ever heard in his life. Shirabu gasped and squeaked in his inhales, snorted and gurgled on the exhales. It was adorable.

Finally, though, night started to fall, and they shut down the kitchen. Umi – home from wherever she’d been adventuring, promising stories later – took whatever was leftover out in a cart. She would sell things for a reduced price around the bonfire they were setting up.

Eita’s mother came back into the kitchen, collapsing at the table in the corner where the family ate together. She looked exhausted, but happy. The harvest festival was their last big day before the winter, and they had to make enough money for supplies. It seemed like this year had been a good year for them.

“Sit with me,” she told both of them. “Your brother’s makin’ tea.”

Eita sat easily, but Shirabu followed much more slowly.

“Ma, this is Shirabu Kenjirou,” Eita introduced him as he sat carefully, back straight and on the edge of his chair. “He’s a friend o’ mine up at the castle.”

“He’s pretty,” a small voice answered. Tomoko walked in to sit herself down as well. It was easy to chat with his family, and even Shirabu relaxed enough to join in. His mother liked Shirabu, he could tell.

Eita kept an eye on the fading light for when the bonfire would go up. When he judged it dark enough, he stood, pulling Shirabu with him.

“We’re goin’ to the dance,” he told his family.

“Have fun, dear,” his mom said, in a voice that told him she _knew._

They ran into Ushijima, Tsutomu, and Taichi on their way to the bonfire. Eita could feel his heartrate starting to pick up from the sound of the fiddles. People were already dancing by the time they got there.

“Dance with me,” Eita said, holding out his hand to Shirabu.

“What?”

“It’ll be fun,” he insisted.

“I don’t know how to dance like that,” Shirabu said, nodding at the fast, jig-like steps.

“That’s the fun thing about dances like this,” Eita said, close enough that he could now take Shirabu’s hand. “If you don’t do what you planned to do, you just made up a new dance move.”

And before Shirabu could protest more, Eita dragged him out into the dance. Shirabu looked terrified for a split second before Eita put a hand on his hip and started to guide him.

Eventually, Shirabu stopped trying to fight it and followed Eita’s lead. His eyes were starting to shine, and he was smiling again.

Then the musicians started to play a song that was especially for couples. Eita kind of wanted to stay, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to Shirabu, but he could see Tsutomu and Taichi standing on the sidelines, watching over Ushijima.

They deserved this more than he did.

“You two go have a dance,” he told them. “I can watch Ushijima-sama for a while.”

They both shot him grateful looks before going out to dance. Eita settled in.

“This dance is for couples, is it not?” Ushijima asked.

“Yeah,” Eita said, watching Tsutomu sneak a kiss before they started dancing. “They deserve it.”

“I am glad they get along so well,” Ushijima said. “They make each other happy.”

“Mmm.”

Eita looked over at Shirabu, eyes shining in the firelight. He was drooping with exhaustion, but he looked happier than Eita had seen him away from a book. Eita felt his chest squeeze. Great. On top of his crush, he wanted to take care of Shirabu and make him happy.

But if this was the result, it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least one of my children had to inherit my disgusting laugh and since Shirabu is the gremlin child, it's him.   
> Next time: You thought I was done with drama? Lol.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last little arc of conflict before I wrap this up

_“Without error there can be no brilliancy” - Emanuel Lasker_

Screw Semi and his long pretty hair and his long pretty legs and his big pretty eyes and his nice personality.

Screw him.

And screw his own heart for pounding whenever Semi laughed, or held his hand, or even argued with him, because apparently he was so gone that even their friendly arguments made him feel all squishy inside.

“So just talk to him if you like him so much,” was Taichi’s advice.

“Who said I like him?” Kenjirou asked. Taichi gave him an unimpressed stare.

“Screw Semi and his big pretty eyes?” Taichi offered, and Kenjirou blushed. “You have a crush, my friend, and you’ve got it bad.”

“So?” Kenjirou asked weakly.

“So you need to man up and tell him how you feel,” Taichi said. “Nothing will change if you keep trying to hide it.”

“He’s not…going to return the feeling,” Kenjirou said slowly. “I got his best friend killed.”

“Not entirely,” Taichi said. “No one blames you for that more than you blame yourself, and if you think he hadn’t forgiven you by now, you’re wrong. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He likes you too.”

Kenjirou wasn’t convinced. However, he wasn’t going to start avoiding Semi because he couldn’t get his heart to play nice. They still spent as much time together as they always had, and Kenjirou did his best to ignore his chest squeezing. He’d been doing his best to ignore it since the end of November, when he’d taken another trip to the village with Semi to celebrate his birthday with his family.

He was in the library, taking some quality alone time with another book, but he’d gotten sidetracked watching the snow coming down. It was almost January, so it was far from the first snow of the year, but Kenjirou still loved watching it. It always smelled good when he cracked the window to let the cold air flow over him, and while he hated going out in the inconvenience powder, it was pretty to watch.

“Getting bored again?” It was Semi, because of course it was.

“I happen to enjoy watching the snow,” Kenjirou shot back, but the edges of a grin were tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was a prelude to one of their friendly arguments, and even though he didn’t always understand why, they were fun.

It started with Semi mocking his taste in books – _this is a classic!_ – and moved to Kenjirou mocking Semi’s hair, almost down to his waist – _I happen to like the extra insulation for the winter_ – and then they were arguing about how best to use a dragon in the game – which Kenjirou won, because he knew the rules better – and moved on to a debate over which kind of cookies were the best – which Semi won, because he had bakers for parents. And they were laughing and shoving playfully at each other, and at the end of it, their faces were right next to each other.

They both stopped laughing, though Kenjirou could still see a flush in Semi’s cheeks.

“I…” he tried, leaning closer. Semi’s cinnamon smell was so good.

“Shirabu,” Semi breathed, close enough for Kenjirou to feel it.

And they were kissing, Kenjirou climbing up so he could sit across Semi’s lap and Semi cradling his face and angling it. Kenjirou had no idea what he was doing, but Semi did, and Semi guided him, tilting his face just so and licking into his mouth and making Kenjirou shiver.

He wanted…

He wanted more. He pressed closer, not entirely sure how to ask for what he wanted, feeling Semi hold him tighter.

And then Semi pushed him back.

Kenjirou almost whimpered at how bad that stung. What had he done wrong? It felt like it had been going well, and Semi had been kissing him back, Semi had wanted that too.

“Shirabu,” Semi whispered through shallow pants, “you’re going into heat.”

“No, I…”

Had he remembered to take his tea last night? He was supposed to, but he couldn’t remember whether he had or not. He had a lot on his mind.

Truthfully, he’d been putting off his heat. He wanted whatever this was with Semi resolved before it, and it hadn’t been resolved.

“I’ll take you back to your room,” Semi said. He stood, forcing Kenjirou to slide out of his lap. Kenjirou followed him numbly, feeling cold. His stomach was roiling with a feeling he didn’t have a name for yet.

Semi growled at anyone they passed, but Kenjirou was too miserable to really notice. Before he realized it, they were at his door.

“Do you need anything?” Semi asked as he opened the door and ushered Kenjirou inside. “Food, blankets…?”

Kenjirou shook his head, mostly because he felt like he was about to start crying, and he didn’t want Semi to see that again, even if a very big part of him wanted Semi to stay. He could feel the beginnings of heat licking at him, distracting from the weird watery feeling in his stomach and the lump in his throat.

“So I’ll just…go then,” Semi said awkwardly, shutting the door behind him. Kenjirou staggered to the bed, collapsing on his stomach, and feeling the tears welling up as he finally landed on the name for what he was feeling.

 _Rejection_.

It hurt. It hurt, and Kenjirou started sobbing into his pillow. Semi hadn’t even wanted him when he was going into heat, when his scent was specifically charged to attract a mate. He had probably only kissed back because he’d been surprised, not because he’d wanted to.

Part of Kenjirou realized that he felt even more out of step because he’d put off his heat, and it was coming down harder on him. He wasn’t the most rational during his heats, prone to spiraling in his mind, but he wasn’t usually this upset.

He’d never been rejected before.

He couldn’t even be bothered to try and deal with his heat, instead burrowing under all his blankets in a kind of nest and crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Semi POV


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get fixed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom fixed my shit. It'll be a gentle downhill slide for the rest of the fic

_“Chess is a fairy tale of 1001 blunders” - Savielly Tartakower_

Eita leaned against the wall outside of Shirabu’s room. It had been a week since Eita had left him here, and the strong, enticing smell of vanilla had faded.

Eita couldn’t get that last, heartbreaking look on Shirabu’s face before he’d left out of his mind. He was particularly inexperienced with omegas, not having a single one in his family, and while he’d heard a lot of stories about how heats could affect them, but he’d never experienced one firsthand.

Still, whatever Shirabu had been feeling there, it couldn’t have been good.

So Eita could admit that he was kind of hovering. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take care of an omega fresh off his heat, but he figured bringing Shirabu cookies wasn’t a bad start.

He’d been waiting for almost an hour, and was contemplating knocking on the door, when Shirabu stepped out. He jumped when he saw Eita standing there, and looked like he was thinking about retreating again.

“Here,” Eita said before he could, holding out the cookies. “They were warm when I got here, but I guess I timed it wrong, huh?”

“Thank you,” Shirabu said, though he didn’t sound like he particularly meant it. He sounded icy as he took the cookies, not looking like he particularly wanted them.

“Are you okay?” Eita asked. He wanted to put a hand on Shirabu’s shoulder, but instinct told him that was a terrible idea.

“I’m fine.”

“But are you…?”

“Actually, Semi-san, I need to go talk to my father,” Shirabu cut him off. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Eita had to watch his retreating back, unsure of exactly what he’d done wrong. Clearly it was something, but he thought he’d done the right thing. Get Shirabu to a safe place, make sure he didn’t need anything, and try to take care of him after.

He didn’t really notice where his feet were taking him until he ended up at Ushijima’s personal training room. Taichi and Tsutomu were watching as Ushijima blew of steam, moving faster than he should have with all his bulk. If they fought each other, Eita wasn’t sure who would win.

“Semi-san?” Tsutomu said, looking up at him. “I thought you were taking care of Shirabu-san.”

“I tried,” Eita told him. “He’s not happy with me, though I don’t know why. He doesn’t want to talk to me, though.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kenjirou,” Taichi frowned. “He’s usually clingy right after his heat. I’m surprised he’s not here yet, I thought he would be with you.”

“He said he was going to see his father.”

“That makes sense.”

“You said Kenjirou was unhappy with you?” Ushijima broke in, joining them.

“Yes,” Eita said. “I don’t know what I did wrong. When I figured out he was going into heat, I got him to his room and made sure he had everything he needed. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Did you…actually explain what was happening?” Taichi asked. Eita shook his head.

“I wasn’t sure how far gone he was, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by staying too long,” Eita said. Taichi blew his breath out in a huff.

“You’ve never actually been around an omega in heat, have you?” Eita shook his head again. “All those stories about them losing their reason to their instincts? Those are just stories. Omegas get a higher sex drive almost to the point of pain, but they can still think, you know? No matter what stage he was in, you would’ve had time to talk to him.”

“So he thinks I just abandoned him?” Eita asked, realization dawning on him. That heartbreaking look on Shirabu’s face made a lot more sense.

“He probably feels like you rejected him,” Taichi said. “I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but I think it’s gone on long enough. He likes you. It probably hurt him a lot to feel like that.”

Eita felt like the bottom of his stomach was dropping out.

“You were not already courting?” Ushijima asked.

“No.”

“I apologize. I assumed you were,” Ushijima told him. “You two seem very close, and you usually smell like each other.”

None of this was making Eita feel any better.

“You have to tell him clearly what you feel,” Tsutomu said, echoing the advice he’d given Eita months ago.

“Sooner rather than later,” Taichi added. “He’s already spent a week thinking you don’t want him, or worse, that you’re playing with him. You have to tell him now.”

“Where would his father be right now?” Eita asked.

“Probably in his study,” Taichi said. “It’s pretty close to Kenjirou’s room. Three doors down on the left.”

“Thanks,” Eita said, running from the room. If what they told him was true, his feelings were returned, and he had to hurry to make sure he didn’t push Shirabu farther away.

He skidded to a stop in front of the door Taichi had sent him to. It was ajar, and Eita could see a man who bore a passing resemblance to Shirabu sitting at a desk.

Eita knocked quietly, stepping in as the man’s head swiveled towards him. Shirabu was in a chair farther in the room, wrapped in a blanket.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Eita said to the man who was clearly Shirabu’s father. “Shirabu, I need to talk to you for a minute.”

“What do you want?” Shirabu sounded less icy than he had before.

“In private? Please?” Eita asked.

“Just say what you need to say,” Shirabu said. He sounded so tired.

“Do you want me to confess to you in front of your father?” Eita asked. He heard a small sound from the man. “Because if that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”

“Why don’t I give you two a minute?” Shirabu’s father interrupted. “I could use a break to stretch my legs anyway.”

“Papa,” Shirabu started, but his father was already out of the room. He focused his eyes back on Eita.

“I’m sorry,” Eita said, before Shirabu had a chance to speak. “I should have talked to you before I left you. I thought you wouldn’t want me around, but I see I was wrong to leave without saying anything to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel rejected or unwanted when the opposite is true. I would be honored if you would let me court you, and I can get you a proper courting gift, or whatever else you want me to do to prove I’m telling the truth.”

Shirabu’s eyes were frozen impossibly wide. His jaw was slack.

“Do you mean that?” he whispered. “You weren’t rejecting me?”

Eita shook his head furiously.

“I’m sorry I assumed things,” Eita told him. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Shirabu chewed on his lip, seeming to turn things over in his mind. Finally, he sighed out a long breath of air.

“Alright,” he said. “I accept your courtship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: courtship


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courtship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're finally courting! Yay!

_“When the Chess game is over, the Pawn and the King go back to the same box” - Irish saying_

Courting turned out to be not that different from their regular friendship. They’d already been spending a lot of time together, and how they liked to pass that time hadn’t changed just because they were courtmates instead of just friends now.

Really, the only difference was how much more Semi touched him now. It could be holding his hand as they walked somewhere, or a brush of his shoulder when Semi wanted his attention, or, less commonly, a hug.

Kenjirou thought that he’d been hugged more in the past year than in the rest of his life.

Still, the augmented normalcy was nice. It was good. It gave Kenjirou time to adjust to the new parts while falling back on the parts he was used to. His attention was focused more closely on Semi now than it had been before, and because of that, he was starting to notice things about Semi that he hadn’t before.

Specifically, he noticed how the queen spoke to Semi. They were preparing in case Itachiyama tried to attack them again, and it involved a lot of moving parts, from actual army tactics to food store plans. Kenjirou and Semi were leading the army part of that, and working together, while not always easy, was good for them. They balanced each other out and pointed out things the other missed. Even with the arguments that were more playful than angry now, they were doing good work together.

Not that the queen seemed to think so. Kenjirou was starting to understand the dislike Semi held for her. She didn’t exactly treat him with a lot of respect.

“That should be enough for the day,” she said. “Shirabu-kun, if you would stay a minute? I need to discuss these plans with you.”

Kenjirou watched Semi grit his teeth. It couldn’t be a more obvious ploy to prioritize Kenjirou over Semi, and Kenjirou was surprised to find that he was annoyed when he would have been proud a few months ago. He would have been pleased for recognition he got by beating Semi, but Semi had had a more productive day today than him.

“Shouldn’t Semi stay as well, then?” Kenjirou asked tentatively. “He’s working on them just as much as I am.”

“No, no, I just need you,” the queen waved him off. “Semi-san, you’re free to leave.”

Semi made a motion that was probably a barely concealed eye roll, but he stood to leave anyway.

“Actually, highness?” Kenjirou said, reaching out to stop Semi in his tracks. “Semi’s my partner in this. We’re working on this together. If you want to work on it more, you need both of us.”

The queen looked at their joined hands, probably putting the pieces of their relationship together for the first time. Her face broke in a sad smile.

“Oh, Shirabu-kun,” she sighed. “I’m sure your first real courtship is a very exciting time for you, but there’s no use in throwing away your talent for a man who’ll discard you when he gets bored. Your reputation precedes you, Semi-san.”

Kenjirou tried not to focus on the reputation part.

“Highness, he is my courtmate and my partner in this,” he said firmly. “If we’re working on this more, I do have to insist on him being here. He deserves it just as much as me.”

The queen once again gave him a look that was almost like pity.

“Men are abundant,” she told him. “You can take your pick of them. Love is for children.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m still not legally an adult, isn’t it?” Kenjirou said, standing up. He’d had enough of this. He used Semi’s hand to tug them both from the room.

He didn’t stop walking until Semi pulled him to a stop in an alcove.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Semi said, in his space but not up in his face. “She’s not going to keep giving you slack now. I can deal with her, I’ve been dealing with nobles for a long time.”

“I don’t like the way she talks to you,” Kenjirou said stubbornly. “If she praises me, I want it to be because I actually am better than you, not because she doesn’t like you for some reason.”

“I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult.”

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it.”

“Brat.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

And then Semi was in his face, hands on Kenjirou’s hips, but Kenjirou didn’t back away. Instead, he rested his hands on Semi’s shoulders, leaning in to press their lips together. They were nearly the same height, and Kenjirou barely had to lean up for the kiss to work.

Semi pulled him closer, using his thumbs to draw patterns in Kenjirou’s hip bones. He sucked Kenjirou’s lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue along it and making Kenjirou shiver.

It was nice to be kissed like this, warm and wet, and if Kenjirou were more coherent he would put it as a solid positive to courtship.

Semi did a good job of holding him close without crowding him, leaving Kenjirou his own space if he wanted it and not forcing the lead. Kenjirou was getting better at the whole kissing thing, especially when it involved tongue.

They broke apart, both flushed and short of breath. Kenjirou’s lips felt tingly. They were probably visibly swollen from the kiss, and because he was a full body blusher, his entire face and neck and ears were probably red.

“Want to get something to eat?” Semi asked. Kenjirou snorted. It was well past sundown, so likely all they’d manage to find in the kitchen was some day-old bread and cheese.

Still, his stomach was growling, so they left the alcove to go in search of food. No one was in the kitchen at all when they got there, so they helped themselves to whatever food they could find, rejoicing when in addition to the bread and cheese, they found some strips of dried meat. It felt almost childish, kneeling on the kitchen floor in front of the fire that never really went out, eating and talking and laughing, but it was good.

Having Semi as a courtmate was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: I put that E rating up there for a reason and it is time to deliver


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First time sexytimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of a timeskip to Shirabu's birthday here. I rated this E and it is time to deliver

_“Combinations have always been the most intriguing aspect of Chess. The masters look for them, the public applauds them, the critics praise them. It is because combinations are possible that Chess is more than a lifeless mathematical exercise. They are the poetry of the game; they are to Chess what melody is to music. They represent the triumph of mind over matter” - Reuben Fine_

Kenjirou wasn’t used to celebrating his birthday like this. Usually he would just spend the day with his father, receiving some gift he’d gotten while travelling over the course of the year. Other than that, it was just like any other day.

He wasn’t used to having everyone he liked around at once, celebrating and passing cake and ice cream around. It had felt normal when they’d done this for Goshiki in the summer, because Goshiki was the kind of person who enjoyed the attention. It had felt normal to go with Semi – Eita, he was Eita now – to go with Eita to his family’s house and celebrate, because the Semi family was the kind to celebrate nearly everything.

But for Kenjirou, it seemed a bit strange to celebrate his own birthday like this. For years, he’d just had his father, and usually Taichi and Ushijima would give him some small gift, like he would for them.

Now, though, they were outside, eating cake and ice cream, enjoying the early May breeze that was turning warm and dry with the promise of summer.

“You’ve got frosting on your face,” Eita told him, reaching up to swipe it away with his thumb. Kenjirou just shrugged. It was good cake.

Eita had made it himself.

“Well, I made the cake,” he’d said when he showed up with it in hand. “Ma made the frosting. She says happy birthday.”

Kenjirou had been pleased with that. Semi-san made better frosting than Eita did, though he was grateful Eita had helped make the cake too in a sappy kind of way that he refused to admit to.

Maybe they were just celebrating more because he was legally an adult now, but something told him this was the new normal. The small group of Kenjirou and Taichi and Ushijima had expanded to include Goshiki and Eita, and that meant more loudness and celebrations.

Kenjirou looked around at them all. He and Eita were paired off, and so were Taichi and Goshiki, leaning into each other and stealing kisses when they thought no one was looking. Or if someone was. They weren’t shy.

Ushijima sat somewhat by himself, but he didn’t look sad about it. He didn’t seem bothered by being alone, or if he was, Kenjirou couldn’t tell. They’d been friends for a long time, but Kenjirou had never seen pining Ushijima, and he’d never been the best at reading people anyway.

Sooner than Kenjirou would have thought, the sun started going down, and everyone started packing things up and taking them back to the castle. Kenjirou caught Eita’s hand before he could go back to his own room, instead pulling them both to his.

“What’s up?” Eita asked.

“I’m a legal adult now,” Kenjirou said.

“Yes, you are.” Eita either didn’t know where this conversation was going or was playing dumb.

“So we can do adult things now.”

Kenjirou sat on his bed, and Eita followed, sitting beside him.

“You know, you’re not magically changed now because you’re eighteen,” Eita said. “If this was something you wanted to do right now, we could’ve done it before if you were ready. And just because you’re eighteen now, doesn’t mean we have to do everything. I don’t expect anything more of you now because you hit some magic age.”

“But I am ready…”

“No you’re not,” Eita said, because he was Eita, and sometimes it felt like he knew Kenjirou better than Kenjirou knew himself. “You’ve smelled nervous since we came inside, and you’re closing off now.”

He leaned in to kiss Kenjirou on the forehead.

“I’m not with you because I expect something out of you,” Eita told him. “I’m here because I love you.”

“Idiot,” Kenjirou said, covering his blush.

“This isn’t news to you. I’ve said it before. You’ve said it back.”

“It wasn’t a lie. I just never expect you to just _say_ it.”

“Might as well get used to it,” Eita said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kenjirou leaned into his shoulder.

“Do you want me to stay the night?” Eita asked. Kenjirou nodded.

“Stay here,” he said when he felt Eita shift. “My rooms are better than yours.”

Rooms, in the plural. Eita only had the one, but Kenjirou had a bedroom and a sitting room and it was more than big enough for two people.

So Eita started sharing his bed, and for a while, that was enough.

Until a few weeks later, Kenjirou woke up facing the wall, late spring light washing over him. Eita was behind him, steady breathing soothing. He almost seemed asleep, but for the hand on Kenjirou’s waist drawing small patterns into his hipbone.

Usually, they slept facing each other – they both ran too hot to spoon all night, but facing each other and holding hands worked for them – but this time, in this position, Kenjirou could feel the heat radiating off Eita’s body into the space between them.

He felt warm, and brave, still loose from sleep. He scooted himself backwards until his body was flush against Eita’s front. The hand on his hip gripped tighter, and Kenjirou could feel as well as hear the sigh from Eita across his ear.

Experimentally, moving on instinct, he rolled his body back against Eita’s, taking smug satisfaction in the little gasp he heard when their hips ground together. Eita kissed his neck, pressing forward into him so they were perfectly aligned, and rolled his hips up against Kenjirou’s ass.

This time, it was Kenjirou making a whiny sound, but Eita was still moving, leaving kisses that were hot and wet up and down his neck as he used his hand on Kenjirou’s hip to help grind them together.

Kenjirou reached back to tangle his hand in Eita’s long hair, loose because he never tied it back for bed. Eita moved his mouth again, this time to Kenjirou’s ear, licking along the shell of it. Kenjirou moaned, throwing his head back as much as he could in this position.

Eita reached his other arm, the one that was trapped between them, under him and lifted Kenjirou so they were both lying on their backs, Kenjirou on top. It was easier this way to roll his hips down as Eita thrust – and it really was a thrust – his hips up. Kenjirou imagined that thrust without the barrier of clothes between them, and moaned.

Eita panted hard in his ear, biting the lobe and kissing back down Kenjirou’s neck and jaw. He reached down Kenjirou’s chest, fumbling for the ties on his linen underwear. Kenjirou didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath as Eita reached into them until his hand was already on his dick and Kenjirou was letting out his loudest moan yet.

He ground his hips down harder, more squirming than truly rolling, as Eita started to stroke him. His fingers were exquisite, thumb swiping across the head on every stroke, hand big enough that a simple back and forth motion was enough to drive Kenjirou crazy.

And through it all, he never stopped kissing Kenjirou’s neck as slowly as his strokes, never stopped panting in his ear or sucking bruises into the shoulder his nightshirt exposed that would hide below his clothes once he dressed.

Kenjirou felt his stomach dropping, felt tension building as he curled his legs up and arched his back and snapped as taut as a bow until his vision snapped white, and he knew he cried out as he came in his pants.

He came down from his high with gasping breaths, still feeling Eita hard beneath him. He felt tired again, despite having just woken up, but he still tried to help, grinding down once more. Eita thrust up against him, right along the crack of his ass, grinding along it.

Kenjirou imagined him doing this without anything in the way, and whimpered. Could he really get hard again from this?

He didn’t get the chance to find out, though. Eita started shuddering below him, hips stuttering out of rhythm, and biting down on Kenjirou’s shoulder – though not hard enough to break the skin.

They lay there, panting, Eita’s arms still around him and Kenjirou’s hand still in his hair. Eventually, though, things cooled down enough for Kenjirou to realize how gross his pants felt.

He stood with a grimace, going for fresh clothes, and Eita followed him. He’d been moving his stuff to Kenjirou’s room for the past few weeks, but Kenjirou thought he might have been done. He hadn’t seen Eita go back to that room for a while, and this room was starting to feel less like _his_ and more like _theirs_.

Kenjirou stripped his pants in silence, looking over to admire the long line of Eita’s body – Eita didn’t wear a nightshirt, and would probably sleep naked if Kenjirou didn’t object.

Maybe he was being stupid for objecting.

“Come back to bed,” Eita said once they’d gotten clean clothes. Kenjirou followed him. They had nowhere to be today, anyway.

They were still too hot to really cuddle, but Kenjirou clung to Eita’s hand, and Eita used his free hand to stroke through Kenjirou’s hair, and he decided he liked that better anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: mawwiage


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get married and also mate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another time skip of about a year. Shirabu is now 19 and Semi is 23

_“In the perfect Chess combination as in a first-rate short story, the whole plot and counter-plot should lead up to a striking finale, the interest not being allayed until the very last moment” -Yates and Winter_

Eita liked to consider himself a bit of an expert in Shirabu Kenjirou. He’d dedicated nearly two years of his life trying to put together all the puzzle pieces that made up his courtmate, and he liked to think he understood Kenjirou better than just about anyone else, Taichi excluded because he was Taichi and understood everyone better than the understood themselves.

However, as well as he liked to think he understood Kenjirou, there were still surprises, and probably always would be.

Take today, for example. Kenjirou had stormed into their room – and it had been their room for the better part of a year now – with an ugly scowl on his face. He’d brushed off Eita’s concern with an “I’m fine” and was now pretending to read like he wasn’t too worked up for the words to stay in his head.

Eita was pretty sure Kenjirou wasn’t mad at him. Kenjirou tended to isolate himself from whatever was making him mad, and he was camped out in their room now, which meant he was probably not mad at Eita but probably _was_ mad at something outside.

There was no use trying to ask him again after that “I’m fine”. Kenjirou was singularly stubborn, and the more anyone tried to push him in one direction, the more he dug his feet in. Asking him outright would earn him a glare and nothing more.

But Eita was stubborn too – more stubborn than Kenjirou. He could wait this out, occupying himself with the list of new recruits to the army, planning out what to do with them all. He’d probably have to send some to another captain to train.

Kenjirou made that little coughing sound that he thought was subtle that meant he was ready to talk about whatever it was. Eita pushed his papers away and looked at him.

“There are rumors about us,” he started. Eita raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t exactly new. They were kind of rumor worthy. The queen’s favorite lapdog had lowered himself to sleeping with a commoner and had even given up his favored status to do it. People loved to talk. “Don’t give me that look, this is different. There were people saying you’re only with me because I’m a good fuck, and that’s why you haven’t actually mated me.”

Oh. That was new.

“You don’t think that, do you?” Eita asked. Kenjirou rolled his eyes, snapping the book he hadn’t been reading in the first place shut and putting it on the table next to their bed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned back into the pillows.

“Of course I don’t. I’m not stupid,” he scoffed. “That doesn’t mean I have to like that other people think that, though.”

He had a point. Eita wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear people thought so little of him. He knew he had a bit of a reputation, though it was hardly deserved. He had slept around before he got with Kenjirou, but not more than he considered normal for a young, healthy, bisexual man. Maybe his lack of a preference for one gender over another worked against him – Taichi had a reputation too, though he actually deserved it. Then again, he and Tsutomu were actually mated now, so that spared him a lot of the rumor mill, not that he would care anyway.

“I want you to claim me,” Kenjirou broke him out of his reverie.

“What?”

“Mate me. Claim me. Let me claim you. What was confusing about that?”

“The part where it came out of nowhere,” Eita said. “The part where you’re just reacting to some rumors that upset you. I love you, you know that, and I’d be thrilled to claim you as a life partner, but I don’t want to do it just because you’re reacting to something else.”

“It’s as good a reason as any,” Kenjirou mumbled, looking down at his knees. He knew Eita was right.

Eita stood to walk to their wardrobe. They’d long since divided it into their own sides – Kenjirou’s was bigger, because he could actually see colors right and Eita didn’t really care about not wearing the same clothes to every fancy dinner.

But Eita did have some of his own drawers that Kenjirou never touched, and he reached into one to pull out a little velvet pouch. He walked back to Kenjirou sitting on their bed, pulling Kenjirou to sit on the edge of it and kneeling down in front of him. Kenjirou flushed red. This position had gotten him to some pretty good places in the past.

“I’ve been waiting for a good time to give you this,” Eita said, opening the pouch to pull out a ring. It was a gold band with a pattern of leaves carved into it.

“Really?” Kenjirou asked, but it didn’t sound sarcastic like it would have normally. It sounded high and breathless and expectant.

It made sense that he’d be surprised. Marriage was only really required for royalty to make things legal. Some nobles did it if they wanted to make a show of wealth, but for most people, being mated was enough. For Taichi and Tsutomu, it had been enough, which was why they had both kept their family names.

  
“Yes, really,” Eita said. “I love you, Kenjirou. I love your face, even when you can’t hide whatever emotion you’re trying to hide and it twists into something angry. I love how smart you are, and I love that nothing about you is easy. Everything’s a challenge with you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love your stupid curly bedhead, even if you always try to hide it. It’s cute, and so are you. I’ve spent almost two years trying to figure you out, and I want to spend the rest of my life trying to put together everything that makes you you. Shirabu Kenjirou, will you marry me?”

If Kenjirou was the crying type, he probably would have been crying.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” he said, pulling Eita up to kiss him. Eita slid the ring on his finger. Perfect fit. Measuring Kenjirou’s finger with string while he slept had paid off.

Kenjirou’s father was thrilled to be able to plan a wedding for his son. He’d been skeptical of Eita at first, at least until Kenjirou had assured him that Eita was what he wanted.

For someone who had spent most of his life assuming he would be married off to Ushijima, Kenjirou was surprisingly lacking in knowledge of planning a wedding. He didn’t have many opinions, which meant Eita had almost complete free reign. His mother got involved, too, taking over any baking needs, and all that was assigned to Kenjirou was writing his own vows.

The ceremony was simple, in the end. Eita didn’t know much about fancy royal weddings, but he did know what people in the village did. Vows before family and friends, and a party afterwards. They were always a good time.

And Kenjirou was stunning in white. White was another color Eita liked, because it was never warped by his vision. The while heather tucked behind his ear added nicely to the look – probably the work of his mother, since it was only in the village that white heather was used for luck in weddings.

They joined each other at the front of the crowd, joining their hands. This was their show now. They would give their vows in front of everyone.

Eita went first.

“Kenjirou,” he said, with the traditional vows of the village he’d prepared. “I promise you the first cut of my meat and the first sip of my wine. I will only cry your name in the night and smile into your eyes each morning from here until my dying day. I will protect your back as you do for me. No one will speak ill of our marriage, because I will never share our anger with others. I promise my love from now until the day the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, for my word is my bond.”

Kenjirou looked a little funny, like he was thinking about crying.

“Eita,” he started, and his voice was thick, but he’d always been better with words than Eita was. “You are the star that guides me through each night, and the brightness that greets me each morning. I promise to always be ready to ask forgiveness as well as to forgive, and to honor you as my life’s mate. That which I have to give, I freely give to you, as long as there is life in me.”

Eita actually was crying now. They exchanged rings – even though Kenjirou had been wearing his for the better part of the month it had taken them to plan this, taking them almost out of spring. And that was that. They were married before their friends and family, and they would claim each other later now that they were married properly.

Kenjirou was still too stiff for village dances, but he was smiling anyway, letting Eita lead them. He broke away to dance with his father, and Eita had to dance with all his siblings and parents. Even Tomoko, who barely cleared his hip, stood on his toes to reach.

They stayed out well after night fell, setting up a bonfire and continuing to talk. Kenjirou was so exhausted by the end of talking to everyone and dancing his way around that he was just leaning into Eita’s side, letting himself be supported.

Finally, though, everyone started filtering home. Eita ended up pulling Kenjirou into his arms before they had to cross any thresholds, and Kenjirou didn’t even protest, just let Eita hold him.

Eita set him down on their bed, brushing the white heather out of his hair. He leaned down to kiss Kenjirou, getting a sleepy but enthusiastic response.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked, something like nervousness at the back of his throat. They’d had sex before, plenty of times, but this was the first and only time they would mate.

Kenjirou hummed, pulling off his own clothes. Eita did the same, still standing in front of Kenjirou. Kenjirou, naked now, scooted to the side.

“Sit,” he said, voice full of gentle command. Eita did as he said, sitting and leaning against the headboard. Kenjirou straddled his lap. “Like this.”

Eita nodded. He reached into the drawer beside their bed, pulling out the small pot of oil. Out of heat, it was safer for Kenjirou to use this.

He coated his fingers, and Kenjirou leaned back along his legs, propping himself on his elbows, and let Eita tug him a little closer to get at his entrance. First one finger, then two, Kenjirou responding beautifully and opening up. He wasn’t in heat, but Eita could still smell his vanilla scent get stronger as he started to produce some of his own slick.

On another day, Eita would have slid down the bed and lifted Kenjirou to sit over his face to taste him, but tonight they had a much more pressing endgame, and it didn’t involve Kenjirou coming over his face with Eita’s tongue up his ass.

They had both waited long enough.

Eita pulled his three fingers out of Kenjirou, waiting for him to sit back up and position himself, reaching down for Eita’s dick. He held it in place below himself as he guided himself down, moaning when he bottomed out.

Nearly the same height standing, Kenjirou sat taller than Eita now, and had to lean his head down to rest their foreheads together. He shifted his hips, giving a small roll. He was the one in control, and Eita was happy to follow him.

Soon, though, Kenjirou was lifting himself with his thighs, skin slapping against Eita’s legs. They were both panting too hard to kiss now, instead just leaning in to each other and brushing their lips together between moans.

All too soon, though, Eita could feel the tension mounting in his body, and he reached between them to stroke Kenjirou’s dick. Kenjirou whined, rocking even faster and leaning down to bite into the junction between his shoulder and neck, coming over his hand and stomach.

Eita groaned as he felt Kenjirou clamp down around him, reaching to bite him as well. The mating bond opened between them, Eita could feel it, could feel Kenjirou’s heart beating in addition to his own.

He kissed gently over the newly opened wound. It would heal in a few days, leaving a raised scar that marked both of them as mated.

Kenjirou rolled to the side, letting Eita slide out of him and pulling him down so they were facing each other on their sides. He came closer until his head was tucked under Eita’s chin. Normally, it would be too hot for this, but on top of the sheets it was alright, and besides, it was normal for new mates to be clingy.

Eita brushed a hand up and down Kenjirou’s back, listening to his breaths slow down until they were in the steady rhythm of sleep. They’d both had a long day, and Eita could feel exhaustion pulling at him too.

He fell asleep, arms wrapped around his mate for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: an epilogue to wrap things up


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is done! I'm so tired and burned out. I'm gonna be taking some time off for finals, and then I'll be spending most of May working on a miniseries for Boku no Hero Academia. The next fic in this series will be about Seijoh, mostly focusing on Kinkuni and what they were doing during the time of A Tale of Two Princes, but will also feature Matsuhana and Kyouhaba as main pairings.

_“The game of Chess is not merely an idle amusement; several very valuable qualities of the mind are to be acquired and strengthened by it, so as to become habits ready on all occasions; for life is a kind of Chess” - Benjamin Franklin_

_*_

_Seventeen years later_

“You read too fast.”

“You read too slow.”

“I can just leave.”

“No, stay,” Kenjirou complained. “You’re comfortable. I’ll read slower.”

Eita settled back down where Kenjirou was leaning against his chest, sitting between his legs. Eita rested his head on Kenjirou’s shoulder, reading along with him. Kenjirou sighed, feeling the peace of sitting with his mate settle back over him.

“Are you still upset that you couldn’t go on the expedition?” Eita asked. Kenjirou shrugged.

“Why do you ask?” he asked lightly.

“Because you keep tapping your feet, and you keep reading stuff about the legends of the lands across the sea.”

Even after this many years of marriage, Eita still knew him better than he knew himself. Kenjirou blew his bangs out of his face. He would have to cut them soon, but he hadn’t wanted to do much of anything lately.

“They wouldn’t have let a pregnant omega go,” he said diplomatically. Eita rubbed a hand over his stomach, still moving back into the shape it had been before he’d had a baby. Kenjirou didn’t really like how long it was taking, but he was too tired to really worry about it.

A tap at their door made them both look up. Satori was poking his head in.

“The girls want to see the baby,” he said. “Is that okay?”

Kenjirou felt Eita looking at the side of his head. Up to him. He nodded.

The two princesses, Rina and Takara, walked into the room. Rina, the older at twelve, walked like a king, but then again, that’s what her father had been training her to be. Takara was a lot more like her mother, with a mischievous streak a mile long. They looked so similar, auburn hair and red eyes, olive skinned and tall for their ages, but their personalities couldn’t be more different.

“May I hold him?” Rina asked politely. Kenjirou felt his gut clench, but he looked at Satori a little desperately, and Satori bailed him out.

“Sit down,” he instructed his daughter, pointing her to a chair. Rina settled herself carefully, Takara hot on her heels, as Satori carefully lifted Takumi from his cradle. He set the infant down in Rina’s carefully formed arms while Takara looked on excitedly.

“Sorry, I know it’s a little hard to let them go in the first few months,” Satori said, coming to sit beside them on the bed. “They’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Kenjirou couldn’t quite take his eyes off the two girls holding his son, no matter how much he trusted Satori. The queen leaned his head into Eita’s shoulder. Years ago, that would have made Kenjirou jealous, but he’d had a long time to get used to the idea of Eita loving him and just him.

He’d been a little jealous when Satori had first showed up and Eita had taken to him immediately, but he could hardly blame his husband when Satori had gotten close to him too in such a short period of time.

“I think we’ll hear news about the expedition soon,” Satori said, and Kenjirou knew it was for his benefit. “Riders came from the south. They should be arriving at Karasuno soon.”

“Good,” Kenjirou said absently, still watching the children. Takumi started fussing, and he made to get up.

“I’ve got him,” Eita said, sliding out from behind him. Kenjirou gratefully watched his mate cross the room, pick up their son, and gently rock him. Eita had a habit of babbling nonsense under his breath to calm Takumi down, and it was unbearably cute.

“How are you doing?” Satori asked Kenjirou. “It’s only been a few months. How are you healing up?”

“I feel better,” Kenjirou said. “I’m not as tired as I was a few weeks ago. And he sleeps through the night some of the time, so I get to sleep through the night some of the time.”

“That’s good,” Satori smiled. He was perpetually smiling, mouth turned up at the corners. “These two were troublemakers. They weren’t sleeping through the night consistently until at least a year old. I was so sure I was doing something wrong, but Mom said I was the same way. You’re lucky he’s so calm.”

“I think he wants you,” Eita said, walking over to them with Takumi. Kenjirou was already reaching out to take him. Sure enough, Takumi was nuzzling the front of his shirt. Kenjirou sighed, undoing the laces at the top.

It was nice, despite the slight embarrassment at doing this in front of everyone. Rina and Takara were soon bored with them, playing among themselves. Eita and Satori both felt safe around him.

Kenjirou had been worried when he’d gotten pregnant. He’d never really had a mother to look up to. He wasn’t sure how well he could fill the role, especially when he looked at Satori, who had taken to motherhood so easily and had even mothered people around him. Satori had mothered him, despite being younger, and Kenjirou wasn’t sure how he was supposed to compete with that.

He always felt like he was messing up this whole being a parent thing, although pretty much everyone assured him that all new parents felt that way. He would never stop questioning whether he was doing things right, and he wouldn’t be able to do it without messing up anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good mother.

Now, though, with Takumi safe in his arms, he felt like he was doing at least something right.

It had seemed like an almost cruel irony at first, the expedition. He’d finally admitted to Eita, and to himself, that he wanted children, about three years ago. He’d gone off the tea he used to control his heats, but it had taken him and Eita two years after that to finally get him pregnant, probably a side effect of having taken the tea for so long.

And then, not even a month after he’d found out he was pregnant, a meeting between Karasuno and Seijoh and Shiratorizawa had revealed the planned expedition, to find faraway lands that Kenjirou had read about and had spent at least a few years burning with curiosity about.

He didn’t resent staying here, though. He had his son now, and that was what really mattered to him right now. He’d hear all the news about faraway lands soon. He didn’t have to go see them himself.

Even if part of him still wanted to see them.

“Does Rina still want to be king?” Eita asked Satori.

“She’s still learning from Wakatoshi,” Satori confirmed. “An omega king. She’ll have her work cut out for her, but she’s learning well.”

Personally, Kenjirou thought Rina, of the two girls, was more like Ushijima. She was quiet, reserved in a way her sister and mother weren’t, but there was steel in her. She was good with a sword, and good at listening. She wasn’t queen material, the way Kenjirou never would have been queen material, but she might have what it takes to be a good king.

Kenjirou looked around at his family. Eita and Takumi, obviously, but Satori and Takara and Rina too, and Ushijima, off doing whatever it was he had to do to take care of the kingdom.

This was his family, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for following this fic. I remember the names of everyone who commented weekly, and I am grateful for you. You kept me going. See you in probably about a month with a Seijoh fic.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: [musicprincess655](http://www.musicprincess655.tumblr.com)


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